


The Thin Line

by pmastamonkmonk



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angel Dust is a Fluffy Whore, Angel Dust-Typical Sexual Content (Hazbin Hotel), Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Gore, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, M/M, Past Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Sex Work, emotionally constipated Alastor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23137381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: Studies say it takes fifty hours of interaction before you consider someone a casual friend and two hundred to be a close friend. Alastor  and Angel Dust manage to skip right past close friend to something more without either even noticing they've crossed the line.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 138
Kudos: 908





	1. Chapter 1

Angel Dust was a hard man to pin down.

Not literally, Alastor knew it would most likely be very easy to physically pin the other man down especially given how the spider flirted with him incessantly.

But that was part of the issue. No matter how long Alastor spent contemplating the ex-porn star, he could not get a solid read. His first inclination had been to write off the spider as a brainless whore yet after barely even a week of being in the hotel, he realized it wasn’t quite so simple. Every time he thought he had him completely figured out, a new facet of his personality would show and change everything, sending him back to square one to reevaluate.

It was infuriating, but also incredibly entertaining.

Angel Dust was crass and lewd - every other word from his mouth a curse or a come on. He drank like a sailor and dressed like a harlot, the hems of his skirts far too short and necklines of his blouses far too low. He flirted with damn near anything that moved, his body exuding sexuality like an almost physical aura, and was not quiet about the name brand labels on the clothes he wore and the products he owned, near boasting as he barked for them to ‘watch your feet, this shit ain’t cheap’ when they came too close to stepping on his boots or brushing against his clothing.

It would be so easy to simply note him down as promiscuous, vapid, and shallow with no redeeming qualities to speak of.

But he was also surprisingly kind and generous – though he did his best to prevent anyone from noticing those more positive traits. He helped around the hotel as if he were an employee instead of their sole patron – his assistance buffered by snide remarks about how “someone had to do something about the state of this joint” or bawdy comments to distract the others from his more philanthropic intentions.

He’d shown fleeting moments of insight hidden as absentminded thoughts, slyly dropping ideas to improve the hotel hidden amongst requests for drugs or sexual favors that would send Vaggie into a rage or Charlie into a lecture about his path to redemption before coming up days later as “a great idea” Charlie had come up with – far too often to be coincidence but with only Alastor taking note.

Though Alastor found himself curious about the seemingly hidden depths, it was the baser behavior that had him keeping his distance. His lip would curl distastefully whenever Angel Dust leered in his direction or flirted and oftentimes he found himself forcibly pushing the spider back with his microphone to maintain a platonic five foot distance between themselves… or at least he had been for the first few weeks of his time at the hotel.

Despite his constant rejections, Angel Dust persisted. Either as a form of entertainment or simply habit, it seemed that no matter how many times he was turned down he just hopped right back in the saddle to try again - though, Alastor had noticed some subtle changes to the behavior.

Angel Dust no longer forced himself into Alastor’s personal space – yes he encroached on the five foot barrier with little hesitance, but he kept his many hands to himself. His flirting had softened from overt offers of sexual favors to more subtle compliments on his appearance, voice, and general manner – things that could easily be written off as harmless banter but still found Alastor ruffling at the novelty.

It seemed the more time Alastor spent around Pentagram City’s most famous harlot, the more nuance was revealed and the more Alastor realized how little he truly knew about their only patron.

And as he found Angel Dust rummaging behind the bar in the early hours of the morning, he decided to remedy that.

“My, my, what have we here?” Alastor strolled up to the bar, the clock ticking the minutes passed two in the morning as Angel Dust straightened, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass in the other.

Angel Dust looked at him suspiciously before grabbing another glass and rounding the bar. He slipped onto a stool, his legs crossing daintily as he did so, watching Alastor carefully as he set the glasses down.

“How _did_ you convince Husker to allow this?”

Smirking, Angel Dust raised a hand, spinning a key ring around a finely manicured fingertip. “Poor guy gets awful distracted with a pair of tits in his face, wasn’t too hard to swipe the key.”

“Such a shame, you’ve been doing so well. Charlie will be sad to see you’ve fallen off the wagon.”

Rolling his eyes with a snort, Angel Dust poured himself a healthy amount before setting the bottle down to the side, the empty glass poised next to it. Alastor took it for the invitation it was, slipping into the vacant seat and pouring himself a finger.

It was the cheap bottom shelf swill that Husker would often be found drinking and as Alastor eyed the fully stocked shelves of finer alcohol left behind, he disguised his smile with a pointed sip.

They sat together in silence for a long few moments, the silence of the hotel interrupted with the sound of the wind outside battering the hotel and the creaks of old wood settling in the night.

“Surprised to find you up so late,” Angel Dust started, looking down at the glass in his hand. Alastor noted that he hadn’t yet taken a drink, but chose not to comment. “Didn’t think anybody’d be down here.”

“I often find myself wandering the halls in the evening. I find the most inspiration in these quiet hours.”

Angel Dust smirked, “Inspiration like that fugly pastel purple color you picked for the rooms on the seventh floor?”

“I’ll have you know Charlie picked that color. If I had my way, everything would be tastefully done in jewel tones. Far more elegant.”

“You would, you bougie fuck.” Angel Dust finally took a sip, grimacing at the taste. “Fuck I haven’t had hooch this shit since prohibition. Husky drinks this shit on _purpose_? Should be usin’ this to strip varnish off the floor, fuck.” He smacked his tongue distastefully before powering through for a second sip.

“I’ve often wondered about his sense of taste, but quantity over quality I suppose.”

“Yeah, I question his sense of taste, too, you’re his friend.” Angel Dust grinned at the jibe, chuckling to himself. “Figures Chacha would want everything pastel and pretty – half the rooms look like a nursery. Can’t think of too many down here who want pretty pink bunnies around them while they sleep… present company excluded, of course.”

“Yes, I did see what she allowed you to do to your room. Took an hour or so for my vision to come back, and you dare imply that Husker has no taste.”

Angel Dust laughed, “Shoulda see what I had in mind before she talked me down to a nicer shade of pink. You woulda puked after bein’ in there for more than ten minutes, Smiles.” He took another sip, smiling softly. “Nice of her to even give me the option, I’da been fine if my room had to look like every other one in the hotel s’long as I had a place to sleep and keep my shit.”

“You are her star patron, after all,” Alastor mused, “only makes sense she would want you happy.”

Alastor didn’t miss the way Angel Dust winced, but as the other man took another sip of his subpar alcohol, he paid it no mind.

“I’d be happy with a new pair of Loubs, these ones’ve seen better days.” Angel Dust kicked his boot against the base of the bar, the scuffed toe thudding against the wood. “But knowin’ her budget that might be askin’ too much. She’s a good kid, though. Naïve as shit, but a good kid. Glad ol’ bitch tits is there to keep her from gettin’ taken advantage of... well taken advantage of by seedier dudes than us, I mean.”

He glanced around the lobby and snorted.

“Though can’t say there’ll be too many people tryin’ to take advantage while this place still looks like a shithole… I’ve been to crack dens that look nicer than parts of this joint.”

Laughing, Alastor couldn’t help but agree. “Yes, the dereliction of this building is quite the wonder, though with how old the building is and how long it’s been vacant it’s to be expected. However, progress is being made and soon enough there will be other patrons to torment.”

“You made this thing,” Angel Dust patted the bar, “why not just wave your voodoo shit and fix everything else?”

“Why that wouldn’t be entertaining at all!” Alastor replied. “I do so enjoy seeing you all struggle with crown molding and paint and ripping up old carpeting – why ever would I want to deny myself!”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes but grinned. “Well, remind me to send you the bill for my next manicure,” he drummed his finger tips on the bar for emphasis. “Helpin’ around this joint is trashin’ my nails and I can tell ya three pairs ain’t cheap.”

“It is quite surprising to see you lower yourself so,” Alastor teased. “Why with your designer label clothing and how long you spend on your appearance most mornings, it’s quite the picture to see you scrubbing floors and washing windows.”

Angel Dust shrugged. “Free rooms don’t stay free for long, and luckily there’s more than the obvious I can do on my knees to earn my keep. Gotta work hard to play hard and I don’t mind lending a hand or six when I can.” He gave one his patented performer smiles, his lower hands waving theatrically, before rolling his eyes. “Figured I’d have more cash lyin’ around not havin’ to pay rent but I can’t get them off my case when I head out to turn tricks. Those broads ain’t exactly flush despite Chacha bein’ royalty, figured they’d be glad I’m workin’ to pay my own way.”

“Oh?”

“I just don’t get it, cash is cash. Who cares how I made it s’long as I didn’t steal it? She’d have no problem if I sat at a desk for my money or waited tables, but just cause I sucked a dick suddenly the money’s dirty?” Angel Dust snorted. “Fuck. They’re not about to buy me new makeup or boots, who cares what I do to get it myself? I work just as hard hookin’ as any other jackass with a,” he made air quotes, “‘normal’ job and they should respect that.”

“It’s the world’s oldest profession,” Alastor agreed, head tilted in contemplation. “Though it does quite obviously go against her ideals.”

“Yeah, well when she wants to shell out for a new palette and a jar of dustin’ powder, I’ll stop. Til then, I’ll make my money the best way I know how. Fuck, sometimes Vags screechin’ at me makes me miss doin’ porn.”

Alastor looked at him for a long moment, watching as Angel Dust refilled his glass. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Miss pornography?”

For a beat Angel Dust’s entire demeanor changed. His expression fell, his shoulders slumping, the aura of confidence around him fizzling away… and Alastor could see something almost sad shining through the other man’s mismatched eyes and the down turned corners of his mouth. But just as quickly as it was there it was gone, his beaming smile back, eyelashes batting coquettishly.

“Why, you lookin’ for some new material? Gimme half an hour to find someone and I can put on a private show if you want.”

Alastor sighed. “I don’t know why you do that…”

“What? Fuck randos? I’m a whore, kinda part of the job description, doll.” Angel Dust leaned forward, bracing himself on the bar with one arm, arching so the fluff of his chest puffed proudly as he looked up at Alastor through his eyelashes, his smile turning lewd and his voice dropping to a rumbling purr. “Though if someone in here would put out, I wouldn’t have to go anywhere.”

Regarding him with a searching look, Alastor shook his head. “You could be so much more interesting.”

Angel Dust seemed caught off guard by that, brow knitting in confusion. He opened his mouth to respond but Alastor cut him off, pointedly not looking at the image Angel Dust was trying to paint for him.

“What brought you here?”

Angel Dust sat back in surprise. “Huh?”

“To the hotel. What brought you to be a patron here. You obviously believe in Charlie’s plan for redemption about as much as I do and, frankly my dear, you stick out like a glittery pink thumb.”

“Why does anyone do anything?” Angel Dust sniped, turning back to the bar, shoulders hunching as he echoed Alastor’s words from his first day at the hotel.

The Radio Demon’s gaze narrowed but his smile stayed wide. “Why, we both know there’re other things you’d do to relieve _your_ boredom than entertain the princess’s notions of redemption… many you still partake in despite her best efforts to dissuade you.”

Angel Dust considered him for a long moment before shaking his head with a grin, his ire melting away as quickly as it had come on replaced with something more subdued. “You ain’t wrong.” He turned his attention back to the bar and sighed. “I needed to get away… Chacha gave me a place to escape to.”

“Get away? From the extermination? The porn studios are arguably one of the most secure places in the city.”

Angel Dust snorted. “Yeah, no shit. Nobody getting in _or_ out. Perks of an overlord ownin’ the joint.”

Alastor’s brow knit at the remark before suddenly realizing. “You wanted to escape from Valentino.”

Humming, Angel Dust took a sip of his drink, grimacing again at the burn of below bottom shelf swill. “The one and only.”

They sat together, minutes ticking by as Alastor contemplated this realization. He’d known that Angel Dust had quit his job as a porn actor and had taken his leave of Valentino and the studio – though he paid little attention to that sort of news, it had made enough headlines to catch his attention as something noteworthy. However, the more he actually thought about it, the less sense it made.

“I don’t care to know much about your industry, but as far as I can tell you were highly regarded in your… craft. I dare say more people recognize you than they would some of my colleagues.”

Angel Dust smirked. “Got the creepy fan letters to prove it.”

“I may not hold Valentino in high esteem, but I have seen how well he cares for his most prized possessions... and someone of your esteem in the industry would surely find yourself at the top of his. The finest of luxuries for those in his close employ, only the best for the perfect pampered pets he needs to suit his image. One would think you of all people with your expensive tastes would enjoy such a life of luxury and glamour… and yet…”

He paused, gaze narrowing thoughtfully as Angel Dust glanced up at him.

“Here you are.”

Angel Dust snorted as Alastor gestured to the lobby around them, the threadbare carpet and peeling wallpaper, worn out furniture and crooked hanging chandelier.

“Not quite a penthouse with a view, now is it?”

The spider lowered his gaze to the drink in his hand, tilting the glass back and forth for a long moment of silence. “You’re right, Smiles. Val did give me everything I wanted… high end champagne instead of this cheap shit,” he tossed the rest back with another grimace, setting the glass down firmly onto the bar. “New duds whenever I wanted, designer shoes and designer drugs… the best of the best for his best performer,” he laughed but it was a bitter sound, “so long as I played by the rules.”

“Oh?”

“I like sex. It’s fun and I’m good at it. And I liked my job most days… but the thing about a job is even when you don’t want to do it, you still gotta. And Val? He has ways to make you do what you gotta. And you learn right quick that even when he gives you a choice there’s really only one right answer.” He pitched his voice up, batting his eyelashes theatrically. “Yes, daddy. Of _course_ , daddy. Whatever you _say_ , daddy.” His face fell, lip curling in disgust. “You smile and get on your knees and when you finally get back to your penthouse there’s a nice new purse or a pair of boots waiting for you. And you look out that nice window to the nice view and you tell yourself that as much as you hated everything you had to do today, it was worth it. Until you can’t anymore.”

Alastor stayed quiet, his smile falling just a little as the defeated slump to Angel Dust’s shoulders.

“See… the thing about a gilded cage is no matter how pretty the decorations are or how shiny the bars… it’s still a cage.”

They sat in silence, the floors above creaking and the wind whistling through the gap under the front door. Alastor wasn’t sure what to think of what Angel Dust had just revealed to him, surprised at the other man’s candor. He’d never put too much thought into Angel Dust’s life before the hotel, simply categorizing it as Porn Star Angel Dust – something of little interest to him. Now it felt like a veil had been lifted and he was seeing something he shouldn’t – like glimpsing the backstage of a theater performance through an errant gap in the curtain.

He waited for the curtain to slide shut and the mask to come back, for Angel Dust to crack another lewd joke or invite him up to his room as an opening to end the conversation and distract from this revelation. But yet again, Angel Dust surprised him.

“This place is a dump. The water pressure’s shit and it barely stays hot long enough to finish a shower. My room’s the size of a matchbox and I can’t fit half my clothes in the closet or my makeup in the bathroom. We never have decent food, there’s dust everywhere gummin’ up my fur, and they keep tryin’ to wake me up at eight every morning for some fuckin’ reason. I get lectured when I curse or drink too much or miss curfew and they shit on me when I go out to make a buck…” he trailed off before a fond smile crossed his face, “but when they want me to do something they _ask_ me and don’t get mad when I say no. They don’t take my phone when I mouth off or throw my make up away when they don’t like the clothes I'm wearin'. I’m not afraid that Chacha’s gonna lock me in my room for a week without food because I don’t answer a text fast enough or that she’ll kick me to the curb for drinkin’ Husk’s paint thinner. Even after I ruined her interview and made her look like a dumbass, she still let me stay with not even a slap on the wrist and even let me bring my pet with me.”

Angel Dust laughed softly, shaking his head and pushing away from the bar. His heels clicked against the hardwood before softening as he crossed to the carpet. Pausing at the base of the stairs, he glanced back and Alastor twisted to look at him.

“This place may not be the Ritz, Smiles, but for the first time in a long time I feel _free_.”

Alastor watched as Angel Dust ascended the stairs and for the briefest moment he felt his smile shrink, brow knit in consideration.

He turned back to the bar and poured himself another finger, throwing it back before rising to his feet. With a wave of his hand, the bar was back to rights – their glasses clean, the bottle back in its place, as if the last hour had never happened.

Another piece had slid into place yet it had only revealed a larger expanse of the puzzle yet explored.

How very interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

“Look, toots, I gotta be able to make some scratch on my own, okay? Not like you’re about to be handin’ out allowances.”

“You don’t _need_ money.” Vaggie shot back, arms crossed over her chest. “We feed you and keep a roof over your head!”

Angel Dust crossed his arms in response. “And I say thanks, don’t I? Help around the joint? But there’s shit I need that I ain’t gonna ask you for!”

Charlie looked between them, obviously panicked. Her hands were up in an attempt to placate as her gaze bounced back and forth as the two sniped at each other like a particularly aggressive tennis match.

“Yeah, no shit we aren’t going to buy you drugs or sex toys, you don’t _need_ them. You’re _supposed_ to be rehabilitating!”

“What I _need_ are some new boots and some eyeliner, you stupid bitch. You wanna take me out shoppin’ for it? Got some cash squirreled away in your trainin’ bra, tiny tits?” He was leaning forward aggressively, his additional height giving him the advantage as he loomed over her slighter frame. “Not all of us have a girlfriend payin’ our way, sweetheart, some of us gotta _work_ for a living.”

Vaggie’s expression turned murderous and it was only Charlie’s quick movements that kept her from lunging.

“Angel Dust, I hear you and respect what you are saying!” she said loudly, over enunciating each word as she held Vaggie back by her shoulders. Angel Dust snorted, rolling his eyes as she obviously repeated the placations from one of her many mental health books. “You are heard and valid.”

He huffed, leaning back with a scowl. “I want new boots. You gonna buy ‘em for me?”

Charlie looked down at his scuffed and weathered Louboutin boots and sighed. “You know I can’t afford shoes like those, Angel Dust…”

“So let me go fuck three dudes and I’ll buy ‘em myself.”

She closed her eyes, grimacing. “I would really prefer if you didn’t.”

“Tell me what’s so wrong with my job, huh? Think me sellin’ my body is somehow different than how other people do it?” He stared at her venomously, pointing an accusing finger to the middle of her chest. “You don’t look at a guy playin’ sports and accuse him of debasin’ himself even though he’s sellin’ his body same as me. If dudes wanna pay me to touch their dick, then I should be allowed to. You wouldn’t be bitchin’ at me if I had a boyfriend buyin' me stuff, would you?”

“Of course not, Angel Dust, you know I don’t care that you’re gay but-“

“But _what_ , Princess? You should be _happy_ I wanna work and pay my own way, ‘stead of leechin’ like plenty of other folks would.”

Charlie didn’t respond, biting her lower lip and looking down at the ground guiltily.

Vaggie had no such compunctions. “A guy’s not your boyfriend because he hands you fifty bucks to spread your legs and comes back a second time, he’s just desperate. Admit it, you couldn’t make a guy spend more than five minutes with you after you finish jerking him off without paying _him_.”

“Vaggie! Apologize!”

Angel Dust and Vaggie glared at each other over Charlie’s head as the princess tried to prevent bloodshed. She looked across the lobby to the empty bar and wondered if she had enough time to call for Husker to help her intervene.

Surprisingly, Angel Dust gave in first, dropping his hands with an aggravated sigh.

“Fine, fucking whatever. Fat Nuggets needs more food if _you’re_ going out shopping since I can’t buy him any.” He stormed off, leaving the two of them standing at the door staring after him.

“Fucking hate him,” Vaggie spat, glowering at his retreating figure.

“He’s doing his best,” Charlie replied, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “You need to apologize, Vaggie, what you said was mean and uncalled for…”

“For what? Telling the truth? I’m not surprised Valentino cut him off, I’m surprised he kept him around as long as he did!”

“Vaggie!”

As they bickered, neither saw Alastor’s shadow dart out of the corner and up the stairs.

\--

Angel Dust was resisting the urge to throw a tantrum. If he was back at the studio he’d break furniture, shred pillows, or shatter glassware against the wall. On one memorable occasion he had hoisted his large, expensive vanity table over his head and tossed it right through the window, raining broken glass down onto the sidewalk and crushing an unlucky imp as they were walking by.

Despite how funny Valentino found it, he was swiftly reprimanded, dragged out of the room by two burly security guards and dropped into Val’s office. After two days of _correction_ he’d returned to his room to find it spotless, a new vanity against the wall and a sparkling necklace on the bed for his shoot that evening.

But at the hotel no one would come replace everything he broke. He’d get lectured and Charlie would give him that disappointed look that gnawed at him, but he definitely wouldn’t come back to find his room as if nothing had ever happened and a new handbag sitting on his pillow as a warning.

Here he’d come back to a trashed room and only himself to blame.

So, instead, he walked circles in the small space in the middle of the room, barely large enough to get a decent pace going while Fat Nuggets hid under the bed out of the way with one of his favorite toys. Huffing and muttering to himself in a mix of English and Italian, he ran his hands through his hair until he was sure it looked like a bird’s nest. He cursed and clenched his fists and fought the urge to throw his phone against the wall, instead placing it on his night stand as he continued to pace to better resist the desire to smash it.

And when he felt the tell tale prickle of tears behind his eyes, he picked up a pillow, buried his face in it, and screamed as loud and long as he could.

Coming up for air, he was surprised to hear someone knocking on the door, looking up murderously. Couldn’t they tell he was having a fit, god damn it?

“Fuck _off_!” Angel Dust shouted, throwing the pillow at the door ineffectively and dropping into the chair at his “vanity” table – the desk every room had with a small stand mirror resting on top of it. He let his face fall into his lower hands, the upper pair fisting in his hair as he huffed for air.

The lock clicked open and the door along with it and Angel Dust growled.

“Get _fucked_ , Chacha, I ain’t in the mood.”

“Well that’s good seeing as how I am not our fine proprietor.”

Angel Dust looked up into the mirror to see Alastor closing the door behind him, Fat Nuggets shuffling out from under the bed to snuffle at his feet excitedly. Fat Nuggets always seemed excited to see the Radio Demon, and Angel Dust had caught him slipping the small pig some scraps and treats when he thought no one was looking. Alastor appeared to be empty handed this time, looking down at him with his patented wide smile before turning his attention back to Angel Dust. “The fuck you want, pally? I ain’t really up for a chat.”

Alastor leaned down and picked up the pillow from its discarded resting place, tossing it on the bed thoughtlessly as he approached. “I hear you and Vaggie had a bit of a disagreement this evening.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

Alastor regarded him for a long moment, eyeing him up and down thoughtfully. “Do you want to go back to the studio?”

Angel Dust turned away from the mirror, brow knit curiously before a scowl crossed his face. “You tryin’ to get me to leave? This place won’t be half as entertain’ for you with nobody but the Princess and Little Miss I Love Lamp left to torture.”

Alastor grinned, “Nothing of the sort. Simply trying to see the whole picture. From what I’ve gathered, you are feeling financial strain – your previous source of income is obviously out of reach within these walls and Charlie does not approve of you becoming your own boss, as it were. On the other hand, she is similarly unable to provide you with anything outside of basic necessities which leaves you without the frivolities you’re accustomed.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t get ridda me that easy." Angel Dust watched as Fat Nuggets squeezed his fat little body back under the bed. "I’ll go naked and bare faced before heading back to that shithole, so don’t worry about it.”

“Now, now, that’s quite unnecessary.” Flicking his wrist, Alastor produced a fold of bills, holding it between his two fingers. “As the hotel’s financier, I find no harm in providing an allowance to a patron being kept out of trouble. Perhaps not enough for thousand dollar boots, but even prisoners are allowed certain luxuries as a reward for good behavior.”

Angel Dust eyed the money suspiciously before shaking his head. He crossed his arms and legs, leaning back against the edge of his desk and eyeing Alastor up and down. “You might dress like a pimp, but you sure as shit ain’t a Sugar Daddy, Smiles. It don’t suit you.”

Alastor’s head tilted.

“I don’t need your money. I’m a big boy, I can make my own.”

“We can consider this wages for all the work you’ve done around the hotel if it’s your ego that needs soothing.”

Angel Dust lifted his chin defiantly, a delicately manicured brow raising in turn. “Unless you’re gonna throw that down for me to suck your dick, I don’t want it. And if you’re gonna? Better double it, I don’t come cheap, innuendo intended.”

The two men stared at each other from across the room for a few long minutes before Alastor conceded, the money fading away with a flick of his hand and his arms folding behind his back with a theatrical sigh.

“Well, then. I’ll simply have to speak with Charlie about allowing you to return to work uninhibited, won’t I?”

Angel Dust’s expression fell into confusion. “Huh?”

“If you’d taken the money, I’d have known you weren’t at all serious about your desire to be self sufficient. Simply swinging from one provider to another, looking for someone to take care of your wants and needs… but you are quite resolute and that should be rewarded. I’ll speak with her this evening.”

“And you got no problem with me turning tricks?”

Alastor regarded him coolly, “Why would I?”

“Considerin’ the way you bristle up when I talk about givin’ handies, figured you’d have somethin’ snotty to say about it.”

“Though I have no desire to partake in such activities myself, I will not besmirch those that do. You work an honest trade and deserve compensation– I’m sure I’ll be able to work something out with Charlie to make her more amenable to it."

After a few beats of silence Angel Dust unfolded from the chair, hands resting on his hips, looking down at Alastor curiously. “You’d really do that for me?” His expression hardened again, “What’s the catch? You lookin’ for a percent or somethin’? A favor?”

Alastor blinked slowly, his usual smile firmly in place. “No catch, no strings. Pure altruism.”

“I don’t buy that for a second,” Angel Dust laughed, shaking his head. “You're a weird guy... but… thanks, Al. I appreciate it.”

Angel Dust smiled and just for a moment, Alastor felt as if he’d been punched in the chest. Unlike the usual smirks or salacious grins, this smile seemed genuine. Wide enough to crinkle his eyes and flash the gold of his fake tooth, soft in a way Alastor wouldn’t expect from someone who’d been in Hell nearly as long as he had.

He looked _cute_ and Alastor was one hundred percent not ready to handle that sort of thought process.

Clearing his throat, he made his microphone appear, spinning it with a flourish and turning away to shield himself from Angel Dust’s smiling face.

“Well then, I’ll be off. I believe Nifty is working on dinner if you need something to keep yourself busy in the meanwhile.”

Angel Dust groaned theatrically, but that smile stayed in place as he followed Alastor into the hallway. “Yeah, yeah, dish pan hands reporting for duty..."

\--

Angel Dust wasn’t sure how Alastor had managed it, but the next day a sheepish Charlie came into his room to apologize and lay out some ground rules for him returning to work.

They were simple enough. Let them know when he was leaving and which part of the city he’d be in with regular check-ins so they knew he was safe. Use contraceptives and subject to monthly STI screenings. No drugs or alcohol involved. He had to come back to the hotel every night unless given specific permission otherwise, though his curfew had been extended to two instead of twelve.

“I’m really sorry, Angel Dust, I never wanted you to think we were judging you or thinking poorly of you… I guess I just got so hung up on the idea that all sex work had to be bad and exploitative that I never really stopped to think that you might do it because you want to?” She tugged on her hair absentmindedly, something Angel Dust had seen her doing periodically when she was nervous or having an awkward conversation. “I just don’t want you to feel like it’s something you _have_ to do… like… like at the studio. And if you ever feel like it’s your only choice or that you want to stop, I don’t want you to think I’m going to tell you I told you so or be mean about it or-“

Angel Dust held up his hands, “Hey, hey, hey, _breathe_ , toots! It’s fine, water under the bridge!”

Charlie peered up at him and bit her lip, “But you’ll tell me if you ever feel forced or unsafe, right? Me and Alastor, we talked a long time to come up with these rules because we want you to be safe. I’ve… I’ve heard about the stuff that happens at the studio and I know you’re a consenting adult, but-“

“Doll face, I can promise you there ain’t anyone down here that can make _me_ do what I don’t wanna do, you should know that by now.”

She laughed, “Alastor said the same thing, that I’m worried over nothing. I was surprised that he was so adamant I let you do it – I was gonna try and help you get a job at a store or a restaurant or something, but he said you knew what you wanted and it was good for your recovery to make your own choices. And he’s totally right!”

“Al said that, really?” He grinned, shaking his head. “You think you know a guy… alright, toots, if I’m gettin’ back to work then I gotta get my face on and make some gents thirsty.”

“Oh! Oh, okay. Uh… just let me know when you’re leaving. But you already know that,” Charlie laughed awkwardly.

Angel Dust watched her leave, shaking his head fondly before heading for the bathroom. Sundown was in just about ten hours, giving him just barely enough time to primp himself to perfection after a long hiatus. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

Putting the finishing touches on just before sundown, Angel Dust made his way down to the lobby. He’d made sure to brush his fur to a glossy, perfumed finish, fluffed and puffed in all the right places, his face beat to the gods with eyeliner sharp enough to stab a bitch. He’d swapped out his usual attire for a glittering pink mini dress and a leather jacket, thigh high stiletto’s clicking onto the tile as he approached the bar.

Alastor glanced up from the paperwork spread out in front of him on the bar, head tilting ever so slightly as he took in the spider’s appearance.

“Stopping in for a drink, my dear?”

“Can’t, Smiles, rules are rules,” Angel Dust grinned, holding his hands out and shrugging.

“Ah, of course,” Alastor’s tone was congenial. “You’ll be heading out then?”

“Yep. I’ll be on the west side and Chacha knows I’ll text throughout the night, phone’s all charged up.” He waved the device before slipping it back into his jacket pocket. “Been posting selfies on my socials all day and already got plenty of interest in my _grand reopening_ ,“ Angel Dust winked just in case Alastor missed the obvious double entendre. “Don’t wait up.”

Alastor simply smiled, head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes half lidded in bemusement, “I’ll leave the light on for your return.”

Angel Dust looked like he wanted to say something else but thought better of it, turning towards Husker behind the bar. “Hey, Husky, Al’s drinks are on me tonight. I’ll settle up with you tomorrow, alright?”

“You’re gonna regret that, kid, he drinks the top shelf stuff.”

Shooting the tom another cheeky wink, he shrugged, “I’m good for it. Just don’t let him get _too_ crazy... or do, and film it.”

“How generous of you.” Alastor sipped at the glass of scotch already in front of him, turning his attention back to his paperwork.

“Just pure altruism, babe.”

Alastor awaited a pat on the shoulder or a bump of Angel Dust’s hip as the other man walked away – forms of touch he’d allowed from the spider despite the five-foot-rule. What he wasn’t expecting was for him to lean down and press a kiss to his cheek before walking away, ignoring the screech of radio feedback that resulted from the act.

“Don’t have too much fun without me, boys!” Angel Dust called back, the heavy front door closing behind him as he stepped outside.

Husker whistled lowly, “Balls of steel on that one.” Reaching over, he refilled Alastor’s glass before gesturing towards his cheek where a smear of lip gloss shimmered, “You got a little somethin…“

The radio static roared around him and Husker rolled his eyes, pacing down to the opposite end of the bar to avoid the worst of it. Grabbing a bottle of from a low shelf, he took a long pull, pointedly ignoring his only patron. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

Alastor felt his face heating, the singular spot on his cheek warmest of all, and his chest suddenly contracting in a most disconcerting way.

Oh.

_Oh._

Oh no.


	3. Chapter 3

Angel Dust’s first night back on the streets was a rousing success thanks to his social media presence. With barely a chance to breathe between eager clients calling his attention, he’d returned to the hotel just shy of curfew with pockets full of cash and the full body soreness of a job well done.

“Right on time! You’ll check me in, Husky, right?”

“Yeah, yeah… you need a drink before I shut down? Last call.”

Ordering a cosmo, Angel Dust reached into his chest fluff, pulling out a stack of bills. “Al already called it? He’s such an old man.” He snickered, beginning to count out a few. “What’s the damage? Might as well settle up his tab while I’m here.”

“Forty-two.”

Angel Dust frowned, pausing his counting, “That can’t be right… you said he drinks expensive shit.”

“He does.” Husker gestured to a line of bottles on the top shelf of the bar. Angel Dust recognized one as scotch and a few as bourbons, mixed amongst other high end liquors. “He only had two tonight. Your cosmo makes it an even fifty.”

Angel Dust pulled out enough to cover, handing it to Husker with a decent tip before pocketing the rest. “What, he stop drinkin’ the second I leave? I know he ain’t exactly the type to party, but you were talkin’ such big shit, expected him to run at least a benjy before callin’ it a night.”

Husker shrugged, “Don’t look at me, kid, if I understood him I wouldn’t be here.” He moved to start closing up the bar, locking the liquor cage and beginning to wipe down the counter.

Sighing, Angel Dust sipped at his cocktail, lifting the glass out of the way so Husker could get underneath it. “That sucks, was kinda hopin’ he’d be here when I got back, thank him proper.”

“What, didn’t you touch enough dick tonight?”

“Why, you offerin’?” Angel Dust grinned cheekily. “We both know Al ain’t in for that kinda shit.”

“Surprised to hear you say that considerin’ how you go after him.”

Angel Dust shrugged, “It’s fun to see him get all flustered. Unflappable guy like him runnin’ off cause Nifty drops one’a my thongs in the hallway? Toughest Overlord in the whole joint and he freaks when I ask him to bend me over the bar? It’s kinda cute.”

“Won’t be too cute when he bends you over to rip your spine outta your ass, kid.”

Angel Dust laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, probably not. S’why I’ve been teasin’ him less… I know he ain’t interested. Bein’ in the biz for so long, pretty easy to pick out the guys who ain’t interested in _anything_ , few as they are down here.”

“Sure hasn’t been interested as long as I’ve known him,” Husker agreed. “Figured you’d take it as a challenge.”

“If he ain’t interested, he ain’t interested,” he shrugged. “Damn shame, good lookin’ guy like him, but he knows what he’s about same way I do. Don’t have to understand it, just gotta respect it.”

Finishing his cocktail and holding the glass out for Husker to take, Angel Dust smirked as he caught sight of Husk’s gaze glancing down at his chest fluff, a little worse for wear and spilling over the neckline of his dress after hours of being pawed at. Raising an eyebrow, he shifted his arms enough to fluff it out a bit more, smirking.

“I like hangin’ out with Al… kinda nice to talk to a guy and not catch him starin’ at my tits, y’know?”

Flushing scarlet, Husker turned his back, wings fluffing up and tail whipping as he grumbled to himself.

Laughing loudly, Angel Dust rose from his stool, “Don’t stay up too late, Husky. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Heels clicking across the floor, Angel Dust went for the elevator instead of the stairs, humming softly to himself as he stepped inside.

He’d just have to thank Alastor the time he saw him.

\--

Or so he’d thought.

While he had a room, the Radio Demon didn’t actually live in the hotel full time, splitting his days evenly between hotel duties and his radio tower. And when he was in the hotel he was usually busy helping Charlie run the place, making it rare to catch him with a moment of down time and even rarer to have a conversation without being interrupted.

Evenings at the bar were the best bet – most of the others were asleep or at least in their rooms and once Alastor settled he’d be there for at least an hour. However, now that Angel Dust was back to work, his own free time was limited to a few hours between waking up and heading out for sundown and their paths crossed even less than usual.

It took almost a week for Angel Dust to catch him, turning a corner and running into him, quite literally.

“Whoa! Sorry, Al, didn’t see you there!”

Stepping back, Angel Dust’s laugh was cut short at the shudder that went through Alastor, his usually relaxed shoulders tensing and the radio dials that had flooded his eyes fading away as quickly as they’d come but not fast enough to be missed.

“Ah, Angel Dust, managed to replace your boots, have you? I’m sure you’re quite pleased!”

Angel Dust peered at him for a moment before grinning.

“Fuck yeah, I did, got that new shoe smell and everything,” he tapped a toe on the carpet. “Red bottom don’t hurt, neither!”

“Suede is so difficult to clean, do be careful or Nifty will have words for you.”

Angel Dust resisted a frown with how tense Alastor seemed to be despite the other man’s candor and the casualness of their conversation. He was used to Alastor being a bit aloof, but it almost seemed like the other man was looking past him instead of at him. “Hey, about the other day-“

“Alastor! There you are! I’ve got the figures for the ninth floor renovations if you want to come look at them.”

The two men looked down the hallway to where Charlie was waving, a stack of folders clutched in her free arm. Alastor seemed to unwind with obvious relief, waving down at her before tilting his head to Angel Dust. “Duty calls, my dear. Let Husker know if you’re leaving this evening, will you?”

Angel Dust did frown at that, watching him trot down the hall and follow Charlie to the elevator, the princess rambling on and shuffling papers haphazardly as she spoke.

He wanted to write it off as a one off, an off day. Alastor didn’t like people touching him, it would only make sense for him to be weird after having his space invaded so abruptly.

But the next few times he managed to catch him the following week resulted in similar behavior. Tense shoulders, ears stiff and with a veritable deer in head lights look about him. Each time they were interrupted, Alastor being called away with obvious relief, and when he didn’t show up at the bar on the nights Angel Dust opted not to work despite Husker reporting he’d been dropping by like usual, he figured the only common denominator was him.

Alastor was uncomfortable around him.

Angel Dust knew that Alastor had struggled to be around him for long stretches of time since his arrival at the hotel. There had been a definite learning curve in how to handle the other man, how to talk without offending him, and Angel Dust was used to Alastor bristling and shoving him away if he crossed a line, adjusting himself as necessary.

But he’d thought he’d been doing so much better with their interactions. They’d managed to have actual conversations, interactions where Alastor didn’t so much as grimace at something Angel Dust did or said. Alastor had even permitted Angel Dust small platonic touches, not shying away from a hand on the shoulder or a cheeky hip bump to his side – things that would have resulted in a twisted arm or an eldritch tentacle in the early days.

And Angel Dust hadn’t minded making the changes. It wasn't like Alastor wanted him to be a nun, he could curse and make jokes and even innuendos without the other man batting an eye. It was just the more overt and over the top stuff he needed to do away with, barely a hardship at all seeing as how he _enjoyed_ being around the Radio Demon. Toning down and adjusting his behavior was a small concession and he was surprisingly upset at the thought that he’d done something to fuck up the progress they’d made.

Making his way down to the lobby, Angel Dust paused at the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of Alastor sitting at the bar. He had a large file folder set out in front of him and a half empty glass of bourbon held loosely in his hand, reading dutifully as Husker puttered behind the bartop.

Angel Dust had spent the better part of the day primping, posting selfie upon perfectly curated selfie in preparation of another night hard at work. He’d debated on his outfit for hours, surveying his followers and finally settling on a leather mini skirt and a strappy pentagram crop top to great response. He’d teased and hinted and finally revealed that he’d be in the north part of town and knew he had at least three clients already waiting for his arrival and dozens more making their way in that direction.

But as he slipped his phone into his pocket, the clicking of his heels brought him to the bar, sliding onto a stool and ordering a Pink Cadillac.

Alastor glanced up as Husker moved to gather the ingredients for the cocktail, eyebrow raised. “Charlie mentioned you’d be going out this evening.”

Angel Dust shrugged, “Changed my mind.” Accepting the drink from Husker, he took a pointed sip. “One of the perks of bein’ my own boss…” He forced a smirk. “Why, you miss me?”

Alastor didn’t respond, taking a sip of his drink and turning his attention back to his paperwork. Sighing, Angel Dust deflated a bit at the lukewarm response and obvious brush off.

Husker looked between them before rolling his eyes, topping up Alastor’s glass and giving Angel Dust a pointed look before wandering to the far side of the bar.

After a few minutes of silence, Angel Dust traced a finger tip around the rim of his glass, knocking salt into the remaining liquor and nudging the lime wedge with his nail.

“You don’t… like hate me or anything, right?”

Alastor’s glass paused halfway to his mouth, looking at Angel Dust in confusion. The spider was staring down at his drink, brow knit up and the corners of his mouth tugged down.

“It’s just… I know I can be annoyin’ an’ shit, but I thought we were gettin’ at least a little friendly, y’know? Chattin’ at the bar, you helpin’ me get back to work… I thought…” Angel Dust paused, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

Alastor set his glass down, brow knitting as Angel Dust continued.

“But now that’ I’m workin’ again it’s like back when you first showed up, like you think I’m gonna just grab atcha or somethin’. An’ I don’t wantcha thinkin’ that’s all I want from you, y’know? You never came right out and said it but like… I ain’t _that_ stupid, figured out pretty quick you didn’t like me treatin’ you like a client… I know you ain’t interested at all and that’s fine... least I thought it was fine.” He sighed. “I mean just ‘cause you don’t wanna do me don’t mean we can’t hang out, is all… right?”

“Angel Dust…” Alastor attempted, unsure where this conversation was heading or what had caused it, looking to Husk for assistance and getting only the fluff of wings in response as they were pointedly ignored. 

“I didn’t say anythin’ to piss you off, did I?” He chewed on his lower lip. “I know I tease you a lot ‘cause, I dunno… you’re cute when you get all flustered? You bristle up and sometimes you get kinda embarrassed… it’s cute! And at first I kinda felt bad cause sometimes you’d get _pissed_ so I backed off a little but then you started to give me shit right back and that was even _better_ ‘cause you’re really funny! I liked talkin’ with ya an’ givin’ each other shit… It was _fun!_ But I can stop teasin’ if it makes you uncomfortable cause I don’t want you to hate me bein’ around or anythin’ so-”

“Angel Dust!”

The spider’s teeth clicked together as his jaw snapped shut, looking up at Alastor in surprise. The Radio Demon took that moment to finally take a sip of his drink before turning to face him.

“I have been quite clear when I’ve found the things you’ve said to be unacceptable, haven’t I?”

Angel Dust noted that he didn’t admit to being made uncomfortable, but nodded anyway.

“And I’ll admit, I have found your company far more agreeable than I previously considered possible. Many of our conversations have been quite enjoyable in recent memory – and when you’ve overstepped boundaries I have taken appropriate measures to correct you.”

“Yeah, but if I’m botherin’ ya…”

“I was not speaking lightly when I said you had potential to be quite interesting, yet you often default to such… _crass_ speech and behavior. It’s disheartening when you’ve proven to be a most pleasant conversationalist. I find myself wondering why you often insist that you’re stupid when we both very well know that you aren’t.”

Angel Dust stared at him, unsure how to process what he parsed to be an actual _compliment_ , absentmindedly raising his glass to his mouth for a lack of anything else to do with his hands. “Yeah, well… not too many guys like it when the whore they’re payin’ has anythin’ better to say than _harder daddy_ … you play dumb long enough, it starts to stick.”

“Well as you stated, I am not one of your clients.” Alastor stated firmly. “You have attempted to meet me halfway and I appreciate that, and perhaps I should have shown that appreciation more obviously. Of course there are many things you do and say that I find baffling at the best of times and exasperating at the worst, but you’ve yet to do anything that would cause me to overall dislike you… so, no, I don’t believe I hate you. Rest assured, if I did, I would certainly tell you so.”

“Oh.” Angel Dust blinked a few times as he mulled over what Alastor said before the corners of his mouth turned up into a sweet smile. “I like you, too, Smiles.”

Alastor chose that moment to drain the rest of his half-full glass in one quick drink, motioning for Husker to come refill it.

“Ooh, me too me too!” Angel Dust finished his own drink before waving his glass in Husker’s direction, his lower hands eagerly drumming his fingers on the bartop. “Get him _schwasted_ , I still have cash from last time to cover his tab. We’re gonna close you down tonight, Husky!”

Rolling his eyes, Husk filled Alastor’s glass and moved to prepare another cocktail. “Long as you leave me out of it, you two can do whatever you want.” He glanced at Alastor who was shuffling his paperwork around in an effort to look busy, a barely noticeable flush tinting his cheeks. Husk smirked. “Don’t let him get handsy with you ‘til the third date, though, gotta at least pretend you’re a lady, right, kid?”

Angel Dust nodded sagely, “Right.”

Watching as Husk poured Angel Dust’s cocktail, Alastor didn’t miss the way the spider smirked in his direction, his smile sharpening into what counted as a grimace from the Radio Demon. “This _isn’t_ a date.”

Leaning forward in a way that accentuated his chest fluff, Angel Dust raised an eyebrow and blinked slowly, his false lashes fluttering. “Did you _want_ it to be a date?”

“Why would I want it to be a date?” Alastor asked, narrowing his eyes and picking up his topped off bourbon. “I just said it wasn’t one.”

Laughing at Alastor's lack of reaction to his provocative pose, Angel Dust sat back and took a sip of his own cocktail. “You brought it up. If this _is_ a date, I expect candy.”

Alastor’s gaze narrowed even further.

“Or flowers, I guess… but I prefer candy.”

“Well, you won’t be getting either.”

Pouting theatrically, Angel Dust sighed. “You’re off to a terrible start, Smiles. Gonna have to work real hard to convince me to go on a second date.”

“It’s _not_ a date.”

Snorting, Husker reached down to grab a bottle from one of the lower shelves, unscrewing the lid and taking a long pull as he crossed to the opposite side of the bar.

Idiots, both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like slow burns!


	4. Chapter 4

Alastor made his way up the ninth floor with a stack of letters in his hands. As one of his duties at the hotel he had taken it upon himself to screen the incoming mail as it arrived – though Charlie was unaware that he did so. His main interest was the hate mail, though most of the most hateful letters were destroyed and left unseen by the light of day. However, seeing as he didn’t want Charlie to be _too_ optimistic he allowed a few to sneak through with the bills and other correspondence every week.

It was always so entertaining to see her read them and he would often wager with himself as to how she would react - either with more conviction to succeed or with utter despondence. Today he was expecting an ignition to her fighting spirit as she’d been in a mostly pleasant mood the past few days with the progress of Angel Dust's sobriety from hard drugs, and if he was correct he would treat himself to a Woodford Reserve Manhattan to celebrate.

Stepping off the elevator, his ears perked to the sound of cheery band stand brass instruments filtering down the hall. He knew Charlie had planned to be painting one of the rooms on the floor and made his way in the direction of the music, the muffled lyrics clearing up as he drew closer.

“- _took me to the Spider Club on Hollywood and Vine, we drank champagne and we danced all night,”_

Peering around the open door, his head tilted in surprise at the sight before him.

He wasn’t surprised to find Charlie, dressed in her usual renovation uniform of an old oversized t-shirt and jeans, paint stained and covered in dust from working on other rooms, or even Vaggie, a roller brush in her hand and her clothes equally dressed down and distressed – where you found one, you’d most often find the other after all.

Not even Angel Dust’s presence in the room was a surprise, the spider was of great assistance when it came to painting as his increased height allowed him to reach parts of the walls Charlie and Vaggie would otherwise struggle with.

What was surprising, however, was that Angel Dust, dressed in a pair of high waisted capri pants and a button down shirt tied around his middle, was leading Charlie in a swinging jive along with the music, feet kicking and twirling them across the floor as they laughed and sang along.

Vaggie was shaking her head fondly as Charlie whooped and giggled, Angel Dust spinning her and even lifting her off her feet with his spare hands to give her an enthusiastic twirl.

Alastor watched, noting their footwork was exceptionally sloppy with no rhyme nor reason to which step they went into next. They obviously had no idea what they were doing and the music was a bit more modern than he usually liked, but despite that he felt the urge to cut in, take over the lead and set them to rights.

Charlie could always dance with Vaggie, anyways, he was obviously much better suited to pair with Angel Dust given his height advantage over the princess.

“ _Well by now I’m gettin’ all bothered and hot, when he kissed my mouth he really hit the spot, he…_ Oh, hey, Al, you checkin’ in on us?”

Alastor started but quickly recovered, stepping into the room and holding up the stack of letters. “Simply delivering the mail.”

Charlie beamed, disentangling from Angel Dust and accepting the pile from him. Alastor watched, his grin spreading as she took stock of the hate mail, her own smile falling as she read the first letter.

“Oh… that’s not very nice,” she sighed, shaking her head and tucking the letter back into the envelope before moving onto the next one. Her shoulders fell as she dutifully read every word, closing her eyes and sighing deeply before nodding decisively and shoving that one back into the envelope as well and opening the next. “Only six today, that makes only thirty this week! We had at least double that just a month ago so that must mean people are more accepting of the idea!”

“Or they just stopped caring enough to shit on ya,” Angel Dust shrugged. “Either way that’s a win, I guess.”

Alastor blinked slowly as Charlie winced, reading another letter, her posture slumping further as her eyes ran down the page. “I’ve offered to simply dispose of them if they trouble you so, my dear.”

“No, I need to read them,” Charlie straightened, squaring her shoulders proudly, the image softened by the fluffy paint stained bunny on her t-shirt and how the sleeves nearly reached her elbows. “As the owner of the hotel, I need to know what people think of us, otherwise how will we improve! I’m sure we’ll get a new patron any day now, which is why we need to make sure rooms are ready!”

“That’s right, hon,” Vaggie agreed, nodding along as Charlie continued to flick through the mail. Alastor hadn’t looked it over too closely, more interested in the hate mail than anything else, but a large black envelope caught his attention as Charlie pulled it from from between two large junk mailers and other correspondence.

Thick black card stock embossed with shining electric blue around the edges of the flap and folds, a large wax seal holding it shut. Charlie frowned, working it free and unfolding it to reveal shimmering blue calligraphy on the inside.

“Oh, it’s that time of the year already?”

Angel Dust, ever nosy, peered over her shoulder. “Oh shit, is it? Forgot all about Vox’s annual shindig.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the other overlord, lip curling ever so slightly as Charlie beamed at the spider. “Oh, you’ve gone before?”

“Eh, not like I was invited directly or nothin’, you gotta be a real big shot to get a personal invite. Val used to bring me as his plus one to show me off, top performer and all that. Last coupla years I just get rented out to rich fucks for the night as arm candy.” Angel Dust shrugged. “Not a bad time, mostly just stuffy fucks playin’ politics but the food was good. Didn’t really think of it since I’m runnin’ my own schedule now, but I could probably hit a few guys up to get through the door if I really wanted to.”

Vaggie scowled in disgust, “I hate those parties, a bunch of sleazy shitlords playing nice with each other while figuring out the best place to stab you in the back. It’s an excuse for Vox to throw his weight around and show off.”

Charlie hummed uneasily, “I’m just surprised I got a direct invitation this time. Usually mom and dad just send us along because they don’t want to go, but this one is directed to me.” She showed the invitation to Vaggie where it clearly said “ _Her royal highness Miss Charlotte Magne and guest”._

"Well, I knew we’d have to go but… fuck, I really hate those stupid parties.”

“What about you, Alastor? You’re an overlord, you must get invited, too! We can all go together!” Charlie turned towards him expectantly and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“For once Vaggie and I are in complete agreement. I’m sure I have an invitation somewhere at the radio tower and it will end up discarded as the rest of them have.”

“Oh.” Charlie frowned, biting on her lower lip. “I thought you might be there to help me promote the hotel… b-but don’t feel like you have to go! I know you’re only helping here because you want to, so I’m not going to order you or anything!”

Angel Dust smirked, “C’mon, Al, if you go I can be your plus one,” he nudged Alastor with a lower elbow. “We can drink champagne and judge all the other guests like catty bitches, it’ll be fun.”

Stepping primly away, Alastor simply smiled. “I’m sure you will all have quite the pleasant evening, as will I in the privacy of my own home away from the… revelry.”

Laughing, Angel Dust shrugged. “What about you, Vags, wanna swap out and I’ll be Chacha’s date? Let you man the fort here?”

“As if.”

“Ah well, guess I’ll just have to go diggin’ through my little black book… gotta represent the hotel with style, don’t we?”

Charlie beamed, raising her fist in the air. “Right! I bet we’ll get loads of press from the party, it’ll be great for the hotel!”

Alastor took that as his leave, smiling serenely as he slipped out into the hallway. Not quite how he expected Charlie’s confidence to swell, but a wager was a wager and he had a glass of Woodford Reserve to enjoy.

\--

“Why not just go to the dumb party and take the kid with you?” Husker asked as Alastor sipped at his manhattan.

“Why would I want to?”

Husker rolled his eyes, “Considerin’ how up his ass you’ve been recently, figured you’d jump at a chance to take him on a real date.”

Alastor sputtered, nearly spitting alcohol over the bar and only barely managing to swallow through his surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You think I haven’t noticed you campin’ out here when he works? Watchin’ the clock?” Husker snorted. “Shit, you can't go ten minutes without talkin' about him. You ain’t half as slick as you think you are… but I chalk that up to inexperience, knowin’ you.”

“You’re treading a fine line, my friend,” Alastor hissed, his eyes filling with dials as the static around him buzzed to life.

Husker poured more bourbon into his glass, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, big scary overlord. You know the kid won’t say no if you ask him out.”

The static and radio dials faded away. “Yes. Well. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Eh?”

“He’d quite happily say yes, however I believe our… expectations would differ quite greatly. He’d be quite flippant about it… and there are things I don’t believe I am capable of doing that he would ask for. We’re not exactly well matched.”

“You’d be surprised, sex ain’t the only thing the kid gives a fuck about…” Husker narrowed his eyes. “I’ll decide if I meant that pun later. Anyways. Just ‘cause he’s a hooker don’t mean he can’t be serious about this sorta stuff… hell, probably the last thing he needs in a relationship is more sex so that’s settled. ‘Sides, datin’s like a job interview, it’s all about figurin’ out if you’re a good fit, not like you have to get married if you take him to dinner once.”

Alastor regarded Husker for a long moment before taking another sip. “No need to rush, then, as I can figure that out without the added entanglement. We see each other quite a lot around the hotel. That serves me quite fine.”

Shrugging, Husker picked up a discarded glass and started to clean the inside of it. “All I’m sayin’ is probably won’t hurt to spend some time together outside’a the hotel… don’t even need to be a date, friends go out all the time.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“Yeah, folks don’t usually wanna kiss their friends.”

The static rushed back in and Husker cackled, ducking away from the swipe of a shadowy tentacle.

“Alastor!”

Turning his head at an unnatural angle, Alastor allowed the static to fade away as Charlie approached. She looked between the two of them curiously, Husker still laughing as Alastor straightened his coat, floating red symbols dissolving and smile securely in place if not a bit tight around the corners.

“Is… is this a good time?”

“Of course, my dear. What may I assist you with?”

Charlie glanced at Husker again, the tom still chuckling to himself, before turning her attention back to Alastor. “I was hoping you could help me with a project off hotel property in a few days?”

Finishing his drink, Alastor rose to his feet and placed an arm around Charlie’s shoulders, leading her in the direction of her office, “But of course, I’m all ears.”

Snapping his fingers, the empty glass on the bar inverted, the ice clinking together as it filled with water, a fifty dollar bill suspended inside. Husker’s snickers abruptly stopped and he cursed under his breath, paws resting on his hips as he contemplated the mess he was about to make.

Overlords were such divas.

\--

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is I learned how to talk like that, too, so you ain’t foolin’ nobody. I _know_ there’s a different accent under there, jus’ lemme hear it.”

“I have no idea what you could possibly mean.”

Angel Dust gestured with the martini in his hand, the speared olive rolling around the rim of the glass. “Bullshit. I know _correct speech_ when I hear it, ain’t no one talk like that natural like, you get it beat into you by a school marm.”

Alastor flipped a page in his paperwork absentmindedly. “And yet you sound like that.”

Narrowing his eyes, Angel Dust tossed back his drink, setting it down and shifting slightly as he straightened his posture. Legs crossed demurely, shoulders back and spine straight, he raised his chin and enunciated. “ _If you just face the facts squarely as I did, you’d know our way of speech is categorically a symbol of where we come from and our heritage. That should be embraced, not discarded for the opinions of the upper class! My own stance is the only stance I could abide by and keep my self-respect, I dare say.”_

Husker snorted a laugh at Alastor’s wide eyed stare. “Impressive, kid, can you do Vaggie next?”

Angel Dust grinned, “Nah, but it’s a cool party trick, ain’t it? Don't do it often, but it's like ridin' a bike.” He finished his martini and pushed the glass forward for a refill. “C’mon, Smiles, I showed ya mine, show me yours. I’m guessin’ you’re some sorta southern boy with the food you like to make. That jambalaya stuff’s apparently from Louisana so down that way I bet.”

Clearing his throat, Alastor sipped at his bourbon. “As far as you’ll ever know, this is just how I talk.”

Rolling his eyes with a huff, Angel Dust accepted his new drink from Husker. “Yeah, yeah, bet you got a drawl long as my arm hidin’ under there, nothin' to be embarrassed about. Knew a guy when I was alive from the south… well I say _knew_ , you know what I mean.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The other guys made funna him and said he sounded dopey but I always thought it was cute how he talked... made him stand out, y’know? Sea of New Yorkers and this guy comes out with a twang you can pick up a mile off, not too bad lookin’ neither.”

“Sounds like you were sweet on the guy,” Husker took a swig straight from his own bottle, resting an elbow on the bar top.

Angel Dust snorted, “As if. Just another john in a long line of ‘em… he was sweet, though. That Southern Gentleman stereotype thing is totally legit, lemme tell ya. He always called me _miss_ even though he knew what I was packin’.”

“Bet you got a kick outta that seein’ as how you remember him so well.”

Angel Dust shrugged, “Not hard to remember the nice ones.”

“Not too many of those I’m guessin’?”

“Bout as many as the _really_ shitty ones. Most are just… neutral, I guess? It’s a business transaction and they get what they pay for. Now the shitty ones? Fuck, am I glad that Val ain’t pullin’ my strings anymore because I would _not_ wanna deal with mosta them sober.” His lip curled in disgust. “Regrowin’ limbs sucks enough when you're blasted, don’t wanna think about doin’ it now so thank fuck I can turn those fuckers down.”

Alastor just barely held back from spit taking, staring at Angel Dust in surprise. “Excuse me… regrowing _limbs_? After _intercourse_?”

Angel Dust waved a hand, “Smiles, that’s kid’s play to some of the shit I’ve been paid to do. One guy paid a couple g’s to vivisect me, literally got all _up_ in my guts. Oh, and this other guy used to like… _make_ me OD. He’d pay a shit tonna money and bring me a buncha drugs and just… have me take 'em so he could watch. Hookin’s taken a _real_ weird turn now that I can’t really die, ‘specially considerin’ the sickos that are down here. And like, I’ll try anythin’ once or twice but the whole regrowin’ limbs is a hard pass. Regeneratin’ takes so long and it gets messy, ain’t worth it unless I’m too coked out to care.”

“Damn.” Husker looked almost impressed. “What’s the weirdest thing someone paid you to do?”

Alastor shot him a dirty look while Angel Dust thought. “Can’t we go back to discussing my accent?”

Husker waved him off, expectantly watching as Angel Dust sipped at his cocktail.

“Weirdest… Prolly the guy who Dahmer’d me? At least weirdest I can think of right now.”

“No shit, you fucked that celebrity chef guy?”

“Chef? That man wouldn’t be able to tell you the difference between a demi-glace and a béchamel! And how he handles a knife?” Alastor sneered. “He’s _barely_ a home cook, the man has no respect for the craft!”

“Chill out, Ramsay,” Angel Dust laughed, “I’m sure however you deep fry people parts is ten times better than how he does it.” He rolled his eyes, failing to disguise his smile with another sip of his drink. “Wasn’t even Dahmer himself, just some rando who was super into him. Paid like… twenty grand to drill a hole in my head and dump bleach or whatever into it? Like how Dahmer did? I thought he was just lookin’ for the girlfriend experience cause he made me dinner and shit but when the power drill came out I was like fuck really? We’re doin’ this?”

Husker grimaced, “Yeesh, sorry I asked.”

“We _are_ in hell,” Angel Dust reasoned, shrugging in disinterest. “Didn’t damage nothin’ that couldn’t regenerate, but I had a bitch of a headache for like two weeks after. Honestly the really weird guys are like… the ones who want vanilla missionary. Like… okay, sure, but you’re still payin’ me even if you ain’t getting’ real freaky.” He looked over at Alastor who seemed to be reaching his limit with the conversation. “What about you, Al? Worst thing you ever did to a victim?"

“I killed my victims with grace and class, thank you, and ate them with the same decorum. None of that dreadful business Dahmer took part in.” Alastor sniffed, though his shoulders relaxed at the change in topic. "The worst thing I ever did... probably the time I paired one with the wrong wine. Dreadful, absolutely threw off the carefully made flavor profile."

"Al!" Angel Dust put his hand to his chest theatrically, looking positively scandalized. "How _could_ you? Cuttin' em up and eatin' 'em I can forgive, but the _wrong wine_... you _monster._ "

"Truly my greatest sin." Alastor sighed, looking at Angel Dust over the rim of his glass as the spider snickered and attempting to disguise his own smile.

Husker snorted at the two. “You and food. Don't get him started, kid, you’ll end up at a ten course sit down of shit you can’t pronounce, trying to guess what body part you’re lookin’ at and who it came off of."

"Well, if the food he makes tastes half as good as that jambalaya, I’ll eat _whoever_ you put in fronta me, no questions asked!” Angel Dust smirked. "With appropriate wine pairings, I'd hope."

"Of _course_ you're going to be completely insufferable about that, aren't you?"

Angel Dust grinned, "Me bein' insufferable is the thing you like best about me, admit it." He didn't wait for a response, turning back to Husker. "What about you? What's the worst thing you ever drank? Other than the paint thinner you're drinkin' now."

"Hey! This is high quality!"

"Yeah, high quality nail polish remover. That shit tastes worse than the stuff my Uncle Vinny cooked up in our bathtub during prohibition, he at least had the good sense to put some juice and honey in it before he started chuggin'."

Husker slammed the bottle down on the bar top, "Those frou-frou sugar drinks are shit. Can't even taste the liquor in 'em!"

"That's the _point_!"

Alastor leaned back, his smile sharpening into a smirk as Angel Dust and Husker bickered, Husker getting far more heated especially as the spider fought back laughter.

Perhaps Husker had a point, it would be nice to get out of the hotel, stretch his legs a bit.

Of course, he'd have to decide if he'd do a beggar's clay chicken or an osso bucco for the fourth course before inviting Angel Dust to his Radio Tower for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through SO many rewrites and I actually had to split up the second part into another chapter because it just got way too long and then I literally rewrote the last bit like seven times... but sometimes you just gotta give it a pat on the butt and set it free.


	5. Chapter 5

“Angel Dust, you’re still here? I thought you were going out today?”

Angel Dust, who was laying upside down on the couch with his legs propped up against the wall, Fat Nuggets sprawled over his middle, rolled his head back to look up at Charlie, shrugging. “Plans got cancelled.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I know you were looking forward to lunch with your sister.” Charlie frowned, tilting her head. “Did she reschedule at least?”

Sniffing, Angel Dust turned his attention back to his phone, scrolling absently. “Nah. Said she’d call when pops cooled down… whenever that is.”

“I wasn’t aware you had family down here,” Alastor grinned broadly. “How fortunate! You’ve never mentioned them.”

Angel Dust grimaced. “Don’t see ‘em much.”

“Well now that’s quite the shame, you know what they say, a happy family is but an earlier heaven.” A laugh track played behind him but Alastor didn’t miss how both Charlie and Angel Dust flinched.

“Yeah, guess that explains why I’m here, don’t it.” Angel Dust sighed, nudging Fat Nuggets off his lap and rolling backwards onto his feet. The movement was graceful and would have been impressive in any other situation, but Alastor felt off balance at the sudden chill in the room, glancing between Charlie and Angel Dust curiously.

Charlie caught Angel Dust’s arm as he walked by, “Go get a drink at the bar.”

Angel Dust tensed but otherwise didn’t move.

Her other hand came up and grabbed his, squeezing it pointedly. “Tell Husker I said it was okay and not to charge you. Please.”

Angel Dust looked at her, narrowing his eyes for the briefest of moments before sighing and nodding his head. Fat Nuggets snorted, pausing only long enough to sniff and snuffle at Charlie’s pant cuff before trotting after him as he made his way towards the lobby.

Alastor watched him go. “Not to be presumptuous, but it’s barely noon.”

“If he drinks he can’t work tonight,” Charlie replied, but her tone was sad. “Means he’ll stay inside.”

His gaze shifted to Charlie without moving his head head. “Are you suggesting he might relapse if he goes out tonight?”

Charlie bit her lower lip, shrugging with a bare lift of her shoulder as a hand came to grip her forearm. “Just… don’t want to risk it. Angel Dust… he has a tough time with his family. He tries but…” she sighed. “I don’t push ‘cause I get it, y’know? Dads... I really get it… but it’s just…” she sighed again, taking a deep breath. “I just wish they’d meet him half way.”

Alastor gave her a contemplative look, “He doesn’t get along with his family, I’m gathering.”

“It’s such…” she grunted slightly, looking up at the ceiling and Alastor almost laughed – it was always funny to see her resist the urge to curse. “Who cares if he’s gay or… or… does sex for money? He’s so much _more_ than that!”

Charlie huffed for a few moments before deflating, her anger melting away into sadness.

She looked up at Alastor with a frown. “I don't understand why can’t they just like him for who he is.”

\--

Alastor found Angel Dust at the bar, head resting in the palm of his hand as another poked idly at the straw sticking out of his barely touched drink.

“Angel Dust, my dear, you should finish your drink, we’re going out!”

Glancing up, Angel Dust raised an eyebrow. “What fer?”

Beaming, Alastor approached the bar and nodded in Husk’s direction, “Why, I have some errands to run and your company would be a most welcome addition!”

Snorting, Angel Dust rolled his eyes, finally taking another sip out of his drink. “Chacha put you up to this?”

“Hm?” Alastor hummed for a moment before his grin widened, Husker placing a finger of bourbon down in front of him. “No, I don’t think so.”

That at least earned him a twitch of Angel Dust’s lips, the barest hint of a smile. The spider shook his head, pointedly taking long sips out of his drink until the glass was empty. “What sorta errands we talkin’ about? I need to get changed?”

Alastor tilted his head and looked over the flowy, floral print top and jean shorts Angel Dust was wearing. “I don’t see why you’d need to, just normal, everyday errands.”

“Yeah, ‘cept your normal every day errands usually end up lookin’ like a Jackson Pollock… whatever, I’ll send you my dry cleanin’ bill if it comes to that.”

“Splendid!” Alastor threw his drink back and set the glass down, gesturing for Angel Dust to lead the way. “Shouldn’t take more than a few hours of your time.”

The hotel itself was located somewhat central in the pentagram, the clock tower standing proudly just a few blocks away and it was that direction that they started. Angel Dust noticed it was in the opposite direction of the porn studios and the red light district, not quite heading towards downtown but he was familiar enough to know of a few shops down that way.

After a few blocks, the skyline cleared enough for him to catch sight of the Radio Tower in the distance. “We headin’ into your territory?”

“I’ve been remiss in monitoring it, what with all the excitement and renovations at the hotel. A leisurely stroll to remind the public that I am still around is just the thing to do on such a lovely day, don’t you think?”

Angel Dust snorted, “I guess. Why not just do one’a your broadcasts? That’ll sure get some attention.”

“Why not both?” Alastor beamed, arms folded behind his back as they made their way down the street. “Putting a face to the broadcast is all part of the job, my dear.” He watched as a demon scurried to the opposite side of the street after noticing their approach, his smile widening. “How else will they know to fear me?”

Looking over him in a sarcastically thorough manner, Angel Dust hummed. “Well, if the fluffy ears and cute little antlers don’t do it for ‘em, I’m sure the good manners’ll _really_ show ‘em what for.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow, smile sharp and eyes half lidded as he continued down the sidewalk, not giving Angel Dust the dignity of a response. The spider snorted a laugh, following along at a leisurely pace, his long legs making it easy to keep up with Alastor's measured steps.

They traveled in a comfortable silence and for once Angel Dust didn’t feel the need to play with his phone, listening absently to the click of his heels on the pavement and the similar sound produced by Alastor’s fancy dress shoes. The dull hum of static that surrounded the other man faded in and out like white noise and Angel Dust felt rather relaxed as they stopped at the entrance to a shop advertising a wide variety of weapons.

He watched as Alastor held the door open, stepping aside for him to pass, and smirked. “See, those good Southern manners are really gonna scare folks, set ‘em real straight.”

“Oh, do shut up.”

Cackling, Angel Dust walked by, listening as the little bell above the door jingled as Alastor let it shut behind them. The Radio Demon made his way over to a display full of blades, perusing them almost absently, his half lidded gaze tracing over each item thoughtfully as he looked for the right one. Angel Dust watched for a moment or two before his own attention was caught by a display of different bludgeoning tools.

He looked up and down at the different pipes, maces, morningstars, and comically oversized mallets. Many were decorated with spikes or nails, a fair few advertising rust and other more decorative additions – not like anyone in hell could really get tetanus, but the aesthetic thought behind it certainly counted for something. Angel Dust found himself more drawn to the small assortment of baseball bats, a particularly lovely one with several long nails hammered through catching his eye.

Pulling it down, he gripped the handle, giving it a test swing and nodding approvingly as he inspected the placement of the nails.

“Why, someone certainly has an eye for quality.”

Angel Dust glanced up without moving his head, a sleazy looking lizard demon approaching. Turning his eye back to the bat in his hands, he noted that the wood hadn’t splintered where the nails had gone through and bounced it on his hand a few times.

“How much?”

“Well, that’s a particularly well crafted piece, solid birch, five inch nails… I don’t think I could part with it for less than two hundred.”

Angel Dust snorted, “Two hundred? That come with a few lines of coke?”

The lizard looked perturbed for a moment before quickly gathering himself, chuckling and smoothing his tie. “Ah, well… I’m sure I could offer a discount for such a pretty face, but honestly, no lower than one seventy-five

“One hundred.” Angel Dust replied easily, holding the bat up and looking down the length of it as if it were the sight of a rifle. “One-twenty five if you wrap the handle in leather first.” He lowered the bat, giving the man a saucy smirk, “I like a firm grip on the shaft.”

“I’m sure you do.” He replied, his tone getting terser by the minute. “One hundred-fifty and not a dollar less, unless you have... other means to pay?”

Angel Dust watched the man's gaze slide over him lasciviously and rolled his eyes, hanging the bat back on the wall. “Al, you figure out what you’re buyin’ yet?”

Alastor, who had a large machete in his hand and a thick coil of rope dangling around his elbow, looked up from another display of hunting knives. “Just about, my dear. Why, has something caught your eye?”

“Eh, nothin’ that can’t wait.” Angel Dust missed the way the lizard’s eyes widened at the pair of them as Angel Dust sauntered over, looking over the knives as well. “Ooh, this one’s real pretty. Gotta love a fixed blade… you lookin’ for drop point or clip point?”

“Drop point preferably.”

“Can’t stab as well with a drop point… but figure that’s probably not what _you’re_ after with a knife.”

“You’d be correct on _that_ point.” He laughed at his pun while Angel Dust groaned. Picking out a different knife, Alastor examined it for a few moments before twirling it between his fingers and catching it by the handle. “Well I believe I’m quite ready. Are you sure there’s nothing you’d like?”

Turning to face the lizard demon, Alastor tilted his head expectantly. The other man sputtered for a few moments before bowing his head and hunching his shoulders in an attempt to look smaller. “Mr. Radio Demon. Sir. Anything you’d like is free of charge. For both of you.”

“How kind.” Alastor replied, obviously used to such a response, his eyes flashing red. He looked to Angel Dust expectantly, “Just that knife today? You seemed quite interested in that bat before his interference.”

Angel Dust looked at the panicking salesman contemplatively before grinning, “I _was_ , but the grip ain’t finished. Think you can fix that for me, sweetheart?”

The salesman scrambled over to the display, taking hold of the bat and racing towards the counter and pulling out a long length of leather. Angel Dust smirked, twirling his own knife between his fingers with a pleased hum while he watched him wrap the handle.

“You need help with that stuff, Smiles?” Angel Dust asked, gesturing to Alastor’s full hands. The Radio Demon only smiled, a portal opening and his items disappearing with a shadowy tentacle. “Fair ‘nuff.”

The demon behind the counter finished wrapping the bat, thrusting it forward. “Sir.”

“Where to next?” Angel Dust asked, extending his third set of arms out long enough to take hold of the bat and disappear it into his torso.

Alastor opened the door, holding it open for Angel Dust to pass by. “Your lunch plans were cancelled and I find myself peckish. You’ll indulge me, won’t you? I’ve heard good things about an Italian restaurant nearby… though I suppose you’ll be the judge of that!”

Angel Dust blinked in surprise, watching Alastor amble down the sidewalk and missing shadowy tendrils surround the salesman and take him away through a portal.

\--

The restaurant itself was actually quite nice, though that didn’t surprise Angel Dust very much with the standards Alastor held himself to. As expected, they were seated quickly, their waiter even faster to bring drinks and take their orders.

Angel Dust sipped at his wine, an actually really nice Fiano, listening as Alastor hummed to himself, the static around him buzzing pleasantly as he picked at the charcuterie board that had been placed in the middle of the table.

“So, level with me, Chacha put you up to this, right?”

Alastor, chewing on an olive, a piece of bread stacked with cheese and prosciutto halfway to his mouth, tilted his head curiously.

“Not that I ain’t enjoyin’ myself, mind, but she gets all bleedin’ heart and I don’t really want a pity party on my account.”

Drumming his fingers on the table top, Alastor’s gaze shifted between Angel Dust and the bread in his hands a few times before he shrugged, popping it into his mouth.

“I told you, your company was a welcome addition when I was already planning on being out today.”

“Uh huh. And my plans gettin’ cancelled had nothin’ to do with it?”

“Well, it certainly freed up your afternoon!” Alastor beamed, though the smile fell slightly at the unimpressed look Angel Dust gave him. “Charlie may have mentioned having some concerns as well as there being some… friction with your family.”

Angel Dust snorted, “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it.”

“Based on the time period when you were alive and your general demeanor, I assume it has something to do with…” he paused, attempting to find the best way to phrase it, “being temperamental?”

“I always hated how they called it that, I like I was throwin’ a fit or somethin’ ‘steada just likin’ other boys. Just call it what it is, I was a queer. A poof. A sally.” Angel Dust huffed, taking another sip of his wine. “In any case, Pops didn’t approve.”

Alastor tilted his head in acknowledgement. “And does everyone in your family share your father’s perspective on the issue?”

“Nah.” Angel Dust shrugged. “I mean, yeah, they’d ask me why I couldn’t be normal or whatever after Pops threw one’a his fits, but they never called me names or beat me or anything… ‘Niss would fight off guys who came at me, Molly’d dress me up and we’d talk about boys together… but they handled it a lot better than dad did.”

“You mentioned your sister cancelled because of his intereference.”

Tracing a fingernail over the rim of his glass, Angel Dust sighed. “Pops isn’t the type’a guy you argue with… if he says not t’talk t’me… well, who can blame ‘em, right? Be stupid for ‘em to speak up and get the boot like I did. Easier to cancel on me and try again later after he’s cooled off.”

“The easy route is not usually heading anywhere worthwhile,” His eye glinted at Angel Dust's surprised expression, glancing up just as their waiter approached with their entrees. "Ah, perfect. I believe you need a refill,” he nodded at Angel Dust’s nearly empty glass, “and I would like another one of these,” he speared another olive off of the almost empty charcuterie board, “before I’ve finished. Thank you.”

Angel Dust shook his head, draining his glass and holding it out to be refilled, Alastor already tucking into his salmon. “Kinda nice to not be the over eater at the table for once, but you better order somethin’ different from me for dessert ‘cause I’m totally eatin’ summa yours.”

“Oh, my dear, as if I haven’t already had two in mind for myself since we walked in the door.”

\--

Several hours passed after lunch, Alastor taking them on a seemingly lackadaisical route through his territory, stopping at shops at random and taking “short cuts” that added unnecessary time to their travel. While Angel Dust was sure many of the "errands" had been fabricated, he found himself enjoying the time out together all the same and it wasn’t until the clock tower chimed loudly that he pulled his phone out to check his messages.

Alastor politely kept walking, for once not commenting on the device as Angel Dust dispelled the notifications on his social media and scrolled through his text messages.

He paused on one. “ _Love to, babe, but Val’d have my head if I brought ya.”_

Rolling his eyes, he scrolled on. “Chacha’s wonderin’ when we’ll be back so she can start dinner.”

“If we head back now, we can return within the hour.”

Nodding absently, Angel Dust sent back the text, making sure to pepper in enough emojis to be sure Charlie would groan when she opened it. Scrolling back up, he started to cycle through his contacts, trying to decide who he’d text next when he realized it was only the click of his heels he was hearing on the pavement.

Stopping, he looked back to find Alastor standing in the middle of the sidewalk looking at him expectantly. “Why’d you stop? You forget somethin’?”

Alastor gestured to the storefront next to him, “You mentioned last week a need for new cosmetics while talking to your friend with the explosives on the phone. This is the brand you use, if I’m not mistaken?”

Angel Dust looked up at the sign proudly proclaimed “Sinphora” and blinked. “You remembered that?”

“It may delay our return, but as long as we're already here we may as well stop. I don’t know much about cosmetics, though I’m sure a shop this size will have what you want.”

Angel Dust stared at him for a long moment before smiling. A genuine, bright smile that squinted his eyes and flashed teeth as he pocketed his phone. “Exactly what I want, yeah.”

Fighting down the desire to buy Angel Dust the entire store just to see that smile again, Alastor held the door open for him to pass by.

Perhaps Husk was correct about this dating lark after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Alastor knew that Angel Dust was not the sort who needed to be rescued. Many looked at the sex worker’s delicate features and batting eyelashes and saw a damsel in distress, but Alastor had learned better than to underestimate anyone in hell, especially someone who had been around almost as long as he had.

And watching Angel Dust handle conflict was easily becoming one of Alastor’s favorite forms of entertainment.

“Look, dickbag, I said _no_. Just ‘cause I’m a whore don’t mean I don’t have standards. I’m off the clock, so get lost.” Angel Dust was looking up at a particularly burly bull demon who was easily twice his size with nearly a foot of height on him – hard to do considering how tall Angel Dust was even without his heels. 

The other man grabbed Angel Dust’s wrist as he tried to walk by and, to Angel’s credit, while he stumbled at the rough grip, he maintained his balance, scowling up at the other man while his arm was stretched above his head. “Look, slut, I don’t think you get it. It wasn’t a request.” He sneered, getting up in Angel Dust’s face, “Now if you behave yourself and come quietly, you _might_ still get paid. Keep fightin’ me?”

“And you’ll _what?”_ Angel Dust’s tone was _dangerous_ and the glow to his eyes and markings was becoming more visible in the fading twilight of evening much to Alastor’s amusement – though the bull seemed oblivious to both.

“Everyone knows Val ain’t keepin’ you safe anymore,” he jerked his arm, yanking Angel Dust up onto the toes of his boots and twisting his wrist at an unnatural angle. “You should play nice.”

Angel Dust _smiled_ at the mention of his former pimp, his gold tooth gleaming. “You want _nice?_ Oh, baby, I can be _nice_.”

He jerked his head back before slamming it forward, cracking his forehead right between the bull’s eyes. As the other man wailed, Angel Dust curled his caught fingers into a fist, reaching up his free arms to curve over the thick forearm holding him tight, swinging himself up to kick the bull square in the chest.

They tumbled backwards, the grip on his wrist not faltering, but Angel Dust was unfazed, his lower hands bracing against hulking biceps while he contorted, aiming another kick to the man’s jaw, sending them both to the ground, landing neatly in the dazed demon’s lap.

Wrenching himself free, Angel Dust rubbed at his wrist, flexing his fingers before taking hold the bull’s lapel, pulling him close.

“Next time you fuck with me, you better be wearin’ a helmet ‘less you wanna end up gettin’ skull fucked, capiche?” He smirked, giving him an obnoxious kiss on the forehead, loud and smacking against the already appearing bruise, before shoving him away, his skull hitting the pavement with a sickening crack.

Standing up, he ground his stiletto into the bull’s chest until his ribs cracked audibly before fluffing up his own and sashaying away.

It was less than half a block before he paused.

“You just gonna follow like a creep or you gonna walk me home like a gentleman, Smiles?”

Alastor chuckled, appearing out of the shadows and into step with Angel Dust. “Wouldn’t want to scare off another chance for such wonderful entertainment.”

“Yeah, yeah, fucker’s lucky he caught me in a good mood and didn’t chip my nails.” He waggled his freshly manicured fingers dismissively. “Some fuckers need to learn their manners the hard way.”

“If what you threatened him with is you in a good mood, then I suppose he is quite lucky. Hate to see how creative you could be otherwise!”

“Skull fuckin’s a solid threat, if you ask me, and not enough people think about it. Stabbin? Getting’ shot? That shit’s nothin’, especially down here it’s barely a threat.” He pointed at Alastor, stopping just shy of poking him in the chest. “But I tell ya I’m gonna be trepannin’ you with my dick? Even an overlord like you would stop and consider that. _That’s_ a threat you listen to.”

Alastor grinned, looking down at the finger, taking a moment to admire the new nail color – a stark black, a few sharpened claws accented with sparkling silver glitter - before rolling his gaze back up to Angel Dust. “I suppose I would have to take such a threat more seriously than others, if not just for the absurdity of it.”

“ _Exactly_. See, you get it, Al!” Angel Dust smirked before looking at him curiously. “What’re you doin’ down thisparta town, anyways? You’re usually at the hotel on Tuesdays ‘cause you don’t got a broadcast to do.”

Pleased that Angel Dust knew his schedule that well, Alastor his arm to brush against the spider’s with their next few steps. “Just a few errands, my dear, nothing so interesting. Charlie had me handling some things for her at City Hall, filing some forms, things like that.”

Angel Dust’s nose wrinkled up, “Ugh, gross. Bet you loved that, though, y’fuckin’ weirdo. You got a real knack for that sorta shit.”

“Well, you’re not wrong!” Alastor’s laugh track played behind him. “Did you enjoy your afternoon with your explosive friend?”

“Cherri? Yeah, we had a good time. She was in a _mood,_ though, y’know? Out for blood! You shoulda seen her at this one store we went to, I swear she was gonna-“

Alastor listened intently while Angel Dust regaled him with his comings and goings of the day, interjecting with a well placed question when expected, vocalizing at the appropriate times – while listening to tales of clothes shopping and manicures may not be riveting, Angel Dust was quite happy to have the attentive ear and Alastor’s experience with the radio made the task easy. 

In seemingly no time at all, they returned to the hotel, Alastor dutifully holding the door open as Angel Dust walked by, examining his nails.

“-but, I mean, pink ain't the only color I like so this time I figured go glam, y’know? They went real thick on the top coat which is nice, can’t feel the glitter and I can tell ya nothin’s more irritatin’ than when your mani feels like sand paper, I fuckin’ hate that- oh, hey Chacha.”

Charlie looked up from the front desk where she was dusting the key rack, smiling widely. “Angel Dust! Alastor! Hi! I didn’t know you were hanging out today?”

“Nah, we met up downtown.” Angel Dust replied with a grin, leaning his elbows on the desk and cupping his face in his hands, batting his eyes. “Al walked me home like a gentleman, kept me outta trouble.”

Vaggie snorted as she came from the office behind the desk, eyeing Angel Dust suspiciously as she returned the guest ledger to its usual spot, “You two staying out of trouble? Doubt it.”

Alastor smiled, tilting his head and producing a thick file folder with a flourishing wave, handing it to Charlie.

“Well that was very sweet of you, Alastor.” She opened the folder, sighing as she took in the stack of papers inside. “Thanks for doing this… I hate going to City Hall, I always miss something on a form and then they make me redo everything… and even then there’s another form to sign! It’s terrible.”

“What is hell but endless bureaucracy,” Alastor replied easily, the canned laughter echoing behind him. “It was no bother, no bother at all. They were quite agreeable with me, eager to help, even! Can't imagine why!”

His smile sharpened and Charlie laughed awkwardly along, looking at Vaggie who just shrugged with a sour expression on her face. They both jolted at an excited squeal, looking over to the main staircase in surprise.

“My _baby_ , look how _handsome_ you are!” Angel Dust cooed, pushing away from the desk as Nifty led Fat Nuggets into the lobby, snuffling and snorting with a large pink bow around his neck and a frilly pink tutu tied around his middle.

“Miss Angel Dust!” Nifty chirped, smile wide and bouncing on her toes as he approached. “I had to give Nuggets a bath today because he was _so_ filthy from the yard, tracking mud all over my nice clean floor! I don’t know how he manages to get so messy but he does! He was really good for his bath, though, and so well behaved!”

Angel Dust made a happy noise, snapping photo after photo on his phone as Fat Nuggets squonked and danced from hoof to hoof at the attention he was receiving. “Of course he was, he’s daddy’s good boy. Yes, yes, you are!” Fat Nuggets climbed up onto his hind legs, front hooves braced in Angel Dust’s lower hands, snuffling at the pockets of his blazer and grunting when he came up empty handed. “Oh, sorry, Nuggy, I don’t have any treats with me…”

Fat Nuggets dropped to the floor, his hoofs clicking against the hardwood, before trotting over to Alastor instead.

“Nugs, don’t…” Angel Dust trailed off as Alastor raised a hand and rotated his finger in a circle above the pig. Fat Nuggets twirled around obediently, spinning in a tight ring before ducking into a bow, waving his curly tail from side to side excitedly, the tulle bouncing along with him. Alastor inclined his head, eyes squinting a bit at the corners, fishing a strip of dried meat out of his pocket and letting the pig snatch it away.

“Angel Dust, I thought you said he didn’t know any tricks!” Charlie said, obviously impressed as Fat Nuggets sniffed at Alastor’s trousers, looking for more jerky and snorting loudly.

“This is a fairly recent development,” Alastor replied. “What with Angel Dust working more often, I’ve found quite a few hours of spare time with Fat Nuggets, only seemed prudent to make use of them.” He snapped his fingers and Nuggets plopped onto his rear, the tulle of his tutu fanning around him, still snuffling a bit but no longer causing such a fuss. “You don’t mind, do you, my dear? I’d hate to think I’ve overstepped.”

“Fuck no, this is _great_! You did this in only the last few weeks? Nuggys, you’re so smart!”

Alastor beamed, his arm looping around Angel Dust’s shoulders as the spider made kissy noises at his pet, snapping more photos. “It was quite simple, really, once you find the correct motivation you can usually get anyone to do anything!”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Vaggie snorted, but even she seemed impressed by Fat Nuggets’ improved behavior.

Charlie made her way around the desk, cooing at Fat Nuggets before turning her attention to the pair. “Alastor, if you’re not too busy, I was hoping to discuss a few of my ideas for the next set of renovations as well as some talking points for the party this weekend.”

“But of course, my dear, I can lend an ear or two,” his laughed, the canned track playing behind him again and Angel Dust rolled his eyes, pointedly turning his attention down to his pig, cooing at him obnoxiously in Italian.

“Angel Dust, did you find anyone to take you yet?” Charlie asked, Vaggie muttering something that sounded vaguely like “for twenty bucks I bet.”

“Nah,” he shrugged, leaning down long enough to pick up Fat Nuggets, cradling the pig in his arms like a baby. “Mosta the guys who’ve brought me before either ain’t respondin’ or they’re too afraid of Val and Vox to bring me along. I’ll probably work that night or catch up on Inferno Shores or somethin'.”

Alastor made a noise of disgust at the mention of the television program, stepping away from the spider and instead placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder while Angel Dust cackled, ushering her in the direction of her office.

\--

Two hours into a binge of what he proudly considered absolutely garbage television, Angel Dust glanced up to a knock at his door. Shuffling his feet into a fluffy pair of slippers and tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, he muted the TV and crossed the room, surprised to find Alastor outside his door.

“Al,” he smirked, leaning against the door frame in a way too provocative to actually be serious and running his fingers through his bangs, “if I knew you were comin’ up, I’da kept my make up on and worn somethin’ nicer.”

Alastor glanced down at the sushi print cotton sleep shorts and faded t-shirt before looking back up at the spider, his smile firmly in place. “Well no need for that on my account, you’re quite the Shiek no matter what you wear.”

Angel Dust snorted, rolling his eyes with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a real looker, too. What d’ya need, Smiles?”

Much to Angel Dust’s surprise, the Radio Demon produced a cell phone. “While I was out today I decided to take your advice and procure one of these silly things, however I seem to have exhausted my ability to finagle it to my liking.”

“You want me to teach you how to use your phone?”

“Now you’re on the trolley!” Alastor held the surprisingly thin device between two fingers as if he were presenting a business card and not a fragile piece of technology. “Why I recall when they moved from switch boards to automated calls, surprising how much further they’ve gotten without my notice!”

“I’m impressed, Al, never thought you’d join us in the twenty-first century but here you are, smart phone and everything. This mean you’ll start listening to music made after the thirties? Some of it’s pretty good, y’know.”

“Nonsense, all good media died with me.”

Laughing, Angel Dust shook his head, stepping back to let Alastor follow him inside. Fat Nuggets snuffled from his place on the bed but didn’t seem to find the need to get up. Angel Dust slumped back into his desk chair, already working on the phone with the hand of an expert.

Alastor looked around for a moment before sitting himself down on the plush pink ottoman in the middle of the room, folding his hands in his lap.

“First thing we gotta do is set up a passcode… ‘less you like the idea of me swipin’ your phone and changin’ your background every time I get bored." He paused. "You know what, nevermind. No passcode.”

“Perish the notion.” Alastor watched as Angel Dust cycled through screens far too quickly for him to really note anything of importance. 

“Here.” Taking the phone, Alastor adjusted his monocle and leaned back, eyes narrowing as he looked at the screen. “You look like my granddad doin’ that,” he snickered, Alastor slowly typing in a few numbers and repeating them when prompted.

“For such a large screen, these things use very small text,” Alastor argued as Angel Dust took the phone away, pulling out his own.

“Uh huh…” he hummed absently, sending himself a text from Alastor’s phone before sending back a tasteful selfie from a few nights prior, setting it as his contact picture before quickly adding in Charlie’s and Vaggie’s phone numbers as well. “Dunno who else you wanna talk to, but most folks’ll help when it comes to addin’ themselves to your phone… anythin’ special you need me to show you?”

Alastor leaned forward, blinking slowly at the ridiculous background Angel Dust had set on the device, a cat shooting lasers out of its eyes while riding what appeared to be a pizza slice through space. “Don’t suppose you’ll readily teach me how to change that, will you?”

“Not on your life.” Angel Dust smirked. The next half hour was a crash course in smart phone skills, such as phones calls, answering text messages, and, much to Alastor’s chagrin, photo filters.

“I highly doubt I will ever find use of taking a photo of myself looking like I have a crown of flowers on my head.” Alastor replied drily, looking down at the photo Angel Dust had managed to snap of him.

“Yeah, but I will.” Angel Dust had already sent himself a copy of the photo, snickering at the unimpressed look he was receiving. “As for the internet, you’re on your own, that’s one road I ain’t leadin’ you down. Smart guy like you will figure it out fast enough if you really wanna use it.”

Alastor took his phone back, typing in his passcode much quicker this time and tilting his head as the black lock screen opened to reveal his own flower-crowned self as the background. Shaking his head, he tucked it into his pocket, rising from his seat. “Thank you for your assistance, it’s been invaluable as always.”

“I already helped, no need to kiss ass now,” Angel Dust grinned, following suit. “I’d ask if you wanted to hang out and watch some TV with me, but I think I already know the answer to that.”

Lip curling distastefully at the screen across from Angel Dust’s bed, the program having devolved to a small gaggle of demons having some sort of violent, screaming disagreement, Alastor maintained his smile. “Such a generous offer, it truly breaks my heart to turn it down.” Angel Dust snickered at his dry tone. ”However there was one more thing I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“While speaking with Charlie, it was decided that having both received invitations to Vox’s event, it only makes sense for the hotel to be represented by both Charlie and myself if we wish to give the best publicity. In light of that, it is my duty to put aside my own opinions of the event and its host and make an appearance.”

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow.

“And after some consideration, your offer to drink champagne and judge all the other guests as, quote, catty bitches, has some merit. So I would like to formally invite you to be my plus one for Vox’s party.”

“Wait, really? You wanna bring _me_ with you to Vox’s shindig? No foolin’?”

“You said it yourself, we should represent this hotel with style! And who better to do so than arguably the two most stylish residents of the hotel.”

Angel Dust narrowed his eyes, arms folding across his middle. “Did Chacha put you up to that?”

“It’s certainly her fault that I’m going at all, but the decision to invite you along was purely my own. I think it will be quite entertaining to go together!” Alastor replied easily and for a moment Angel Dust briefly saw his eyebrows knit up in concern. “Though, obviously, if you were joking and don’t wish to go with me-“

“No! No, I do, totally!” Angel Dust seemed surprised by his own outburst, his mouth snapping shut, biting his lip. “I mean… if you really want me to. No one else wants to take me and get on Val's bad side...”

Alastor resisted the urge to snort in derision, choosing instead to shrug. “Valentino is of no concern of mine. He's simply a tall man with a rather large mouth and not much else to back it up.” He eyed Angel Dust closely, noting a bit of tension as the conversation veered towards his former employee, redirecting. “So is that a yes? If not, I’ll have to go stag.”

Letting out a groaning laugh at the horrible pun, Angel Dust rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’…. yeah, if you really want me to. It’ll be fun to go with someone I actually like for once.”

Preening at the notion, Alastor nodded, finally opening the door and taking a step into the hallway. “Well then, I’ll leave you to your… horrible nonsense picture show. Thank you again for your assistance.”

“Any time, Smiles, you know that.” Angel Dust smiled, leaning against the door frame again and Alastor noted he found the more casual posture far more appealing than the put upon one from earlier.

Realizing he’d been standing there staring for close to a minute, Alastor jerked around, his radio channels cycling rapidly before settling on a jazz station as he started ambling down the hall, listening to Angel Dust’s laugh echoing behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Al, glad I caught you! Figured you’d be long gone by now!” Angel Dust grinned, trotting up to the bar dressed like a rather provocative secretary, the fluff of his chest spilling out of the unbuttoned collar of his shirt and the hemline of his pencil skirt barely skimming the tops of his gartered stockings. “Nifty said you’re broadcastin’ tonight ‘stead of Saturday, right?”

“Nine o’clock on the dot!” Alastor replied, his laugh track echoing behind him. “You’ll be working this evening as well, I take it?”

“Yeah, North End. Real big spender booked my whole night.”

Husker snorted, taking a pull from his bottle. “That explains the get up.”

“Yeah, Al, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You wanted to talk to him about your porn outfit?”

“No!” Angel Dust barked, glaring at the cat who just laughed. “It’s about what I’m wearin’ to Vox’s thing.”

Alastor looked at him expectantly, taking a sip of his bourbon.

“You uh… you didn’t give me any sort of idea what you wanted me to wear.” Angel Dust folded his arms, looking a little embarrassed as Alastor tilted his head curiously.

“I was unaware I was supposed to.”

Angel Dust knit up his brows, worrying his lip, “Val always picked out my outfits for stuff like this… so I guess I just figured...” his shoulders raised up around his temples and he looked away self consciously. “Now that I say it out loud, it sounds stupid.”

“Not at all, my dear. Do you want me to tell you what to wear?”

“…not really.”

Alastor blinked slowly at Angel Dust’s quiet confession and the way the spider seemed to flinch away as though expecting some sort of negative reaction his answer. He resisted the urge to clench his fist at the thought of just why he would react that way, forcing his smile to stay wide and congenial. “Well then, I’m sure whatever you have in mind will be fine. Is there a color I should consider so we coordinate?”

“…You ain’t worried about what I’m gonna wear?”

“My opinion isn’t much concern, you’ll be the one wearing it all night, after all.” Alastor replied brightly. “You have no trouble dressing yourself any other day, can’t see why I should have a say in what you wear simply because you’ll be accompanying me.”

“Oh.” Angel Dust looked surprised and confused in equal measures, absently running a hand through his hair and plucking at the hem of his skirt with another. “I… uh… I figured you’d have rules or somethin’ since you bitch about how I dress all the time…”

Alastor inclined his head, “I’ve not said a thing about your attire for quite a while. Your style is quite flashy, yes, but I realized your state of dress had very little bearing on me as long as you weren’t completely indecent.”

“Huh. Guess it _has_ been a while since you said anythin’…” Angel Dust slowly relaxed, obviously racking his brain trying to remember the last negative comment from Alastor and coming up empty handed. He smirked, “Not completely indecent… Damn, and here I was gonna dust off the crystal titty tassles an’ everythin’ just for you!”

“As titillating as I’m sure those would be, I can tell when you’re joking.”

Seeing the smirk on Alastor’s face and catching the pun – a downright filthy one by Alastor’s standards -, Angel Dust took the challenge. “Speakin’ of… maybe I can hit up the guy goin’ around sellin’ designer duds? He’s a Dior to Dior salesman.”

“He should diversify his efforts; I’ve heard iron sales are decreasing.”

Heedless to Husker’s indignant groan, Angel Dust pressed on, stifling a giggle. “That’s definitely an is-shoe he should ad-dress, ‘specially in this market.”

Alastor nodded down to Angel Dust’s gleaming patent pumps. “I’m glad you changed your opinion on leather shoes, I can see the salesman managed to suede you.”

“I might have to bring ‘em back, one of ‘em just ain’t right.”

Alastor’s smile was wide and the look in his eyes positively delighted, finally breaking and letting out a laugh with a shake of his head. “I concede, my dear, good show.”

“You two disgust me,” Husker sneered, Angel Dust dissolving into giggles of his own. “Get the fuck outta here before you set him off again!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll stop _kitten_ around, don’t be such a sourpuss!”

The Radio Demon turned back to the bar, still chuckling softly and Husker groaned again, dragging a clawed hand down his face with a pained grimace. With a quick bump of his pencil skirt clad hip against Alastor’s side, Angel Dust gave them a wave, making his way towards the front door and out into the fading twilight.

Watching the door shut behind him, Husker drummed his claws on the bar top for a long moment, gulping down a few mouthfuls of liquor before finally speaking.

“You really ain’t nervous the kid’s gonna show up in one’a his skanky outfits?”

Alastor shrugged, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass down. “If he does, he does. I’ve made it quite clear I’m not a client nor am I his pimp and I refuse to be another in a long line telling him what to do.”

“Bullshit, you fuckin’ love tellin’ people what to do.”

“I do, don’t I,” Alastor’s eyes flashed briefly at the thought, before his expression softened again. “However, that’s not how relationships are meant to work, so I’m told. It would be quite presumptuous to order him about seeing as I don’t own him.”

“Yeah, we both know who’s holdin’ the leash between you two.” Husk made a whip cracking noise, snickering to himself.

Giving him an unimpressed look, Alastor stood from the bar, his microphone appearing with a flick as Husk scrambled to pick up the discarded glass before anything could be done to it. Alastor snapped his fingers and Husk cringed, looking to the glass suspiciously only to find it unchanged, empty save for the dregs of Alastor’s drink.

“Good night, my good fellow, do make sure to tune in this evening!” the click of wingtip shoes on the floor echoed as Husker looked around the bar for some sort of sign of voodoo bullshittery, ears laid flat as he scanned his surroundings. Alastor disappeared into the darkness of one of his shadows, but Husker’s fur stayed bristled, his feathers stayed fluffed, and his tail twitched suspiciously.

Carefully putting the glass into the small dish pit behind the bar, Husk took a sip from his bottle, unable to stop himself from spitting it straight onto the floor with a choking gasp.

“Fuckin’ _nail polish remover?!”_

\--

“Well that smells nice. You finally cookin’ me that ten course dinner Husk signed you up for?”

Alastor glanced up from his place at the stove top to see Angel Dust walk in, pushing his pink, heart shaped sunglasses up into his hair, his ridiculously plush pink fur jacket curling up around his neck and brushing the hem of his favorite black mini skirt.

“Still tweaking the menu for that, my dear,” Alastor replied cheerily as he stirred at the pot in front of him, a low hum of staticky jazz filtering into the air as it always did when he was in the kitchen. “We’ll make an evening of it, I assure you.”

“Figuring out that wine list, huh?” Angel Dust peered over the ingredients spread out on the counter as Alastor continued stirring, pointedly ignoring his comment. “You makin’ that jambalaya stuff again?”

“Gumbo, actually! Woke up just knowin’ today was a day for it!”

Watching as Alastor poured a bowl of diced vegetables into the pot, Angel Dust enjoyed the way the muscles of his forearm flexed as he stirred, exposed with his sleeves folded up to his elbows as they were. “Should I wait around for lunch?”

“Oh, cher, this is for dinner! Gumbo needs hours and hours to develop the right way, but the wait is well worth it!” Alastor hummed as he reached for a glass of bourbon off to the side, taking a sip before dumping the rest of it right into the pot. “Were you feeling peckish? Don’t expect to see you about this early when you’ve worked the night before.”

“Cherri’s takin’ me shoppin’ for Saturday,” Angel Dust replied, smirking at the slight twang coloring Alastor’s voice. The Radio Demon hadn’t seemed to notice, focused on his cooking as he was, and Angel Dust wasn’t about to say anything. “Might see if we can stir up some shit with ol’ double dick while we’re out, have some fun, y’know?”

“Reckon it’s my responsibility to remind you of Charlie’s request for no news coverage or bad publicity,” the smirk on Alastor’s face betrayed his own feelings about the request and Angel Dust snickered, flicking his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

“Baby, all publicity is good publicity, ‘specially when you look like me.” Alastor dumped what appeared to be a bowl of meat and chunks of sausage – though Angel Dust didn’t question the source of either as he grabbed an apple out of the bowl of fruit Vaggie kept near the microwave, tossing it between his hands a few times. “So… you sure you don’t care what I wear to Vox’s thing?”

Humming softly, Alastor tilted his head as he continued stirring the gumbo. “As long as you like what you’re wearing, you’ll be smiling and you know what they say…”

The static shifted a few channels before settling on _You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile_ , the old crooning warble distorted slightly as it echoed around the kitchen, Alastor beaming and humming along.

“Guess I’m so used t’bein’ just arm candy, it’s weird to pick whatever I want. Keep thinkin’ I’ll fuck it up and pick somethin’ you hate or embarrass you or somethin’ an’ piss you off…”

Alastor lowered the heat and placed a lid over the pot, his wooden spoon set to rest on a plate nearby. “Well, as I've said I am quite confident anything you choose will result in you looking lovely as ever, up to and including an old feed bag. Though, of course, that feed bag would need quite the label name on it to be up to your standards!”

Angel Dust laughed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and sinking his face into the fluff of his collar as Alastor waved a hand, his shadows piling up all the dishes into the sink and starting to run the water. “Heh, you think?”

“But of course! Why, your company is sure to be the highlight of this whole endeavor! I’m quite looking forward to it despite my initial reservations.”

Staring at Alastor’s back as the overlord began washing his dishes, Angel Dust struggled to find something to say, saved by the chime of his phone. He sighed, quickly sending back a message of his own, “That’s Cherri… guess I’ll see you later, Smiles. Fishnets and a miniskirt, right?”

“Whatever you like, cher, enjoy yourself! Do keep the explosions out of my territory if you would, the destruction can be such an eyesore.”

“Blow up the Radio Tower, got it.”

As Alastor scrubbed the last of his dishes, he listened to the fading sound of Angel Dust’s heels and hummed along with the music filtering through the room.

Perhaps it would behoove him to find something a bit more suitable for Saturday as well… it had been decades since he’d upgraded his formal wear, it certainly couldn’t hurt.

He had a date to impress this time, after all.

\--

Saturday passed quietly, most of the hotel’s occupants busy readying themselves for the evening’s festivities leaving Husker to mind the blissfully quiet bar and drink uninterrupted for hours save for Nifty's rapid footsteps as she cleaned the lobby and ran down the halls every few hours. As the clock chimed seven, the sound of the elevator called his attention and he huffed, pulling down a glass and a bottle of whiskey.

“You fancy motherfucker,” Husker sneered as Alastor approached, his usual suit swapped out for a blood red tuxedo jacket, the black lapels matching his slacks and his shoes polished to an almost indecent shine.

Straightening a shirt cuff, Alastor beamed. “When heading into enemy territory, the proper armor is always necessary.”

“Yeah, sure,” Husker snorted, putting a Manhattan down on the bar. “Ain’t that what the kid says when he’s puttin’ glitter in his eyes or some shit?”

“Something like that.”

Shaking his head, Husker took a long pull from his bottle as Alastor sipped at his drink. “Want me to take your picture at the bottom of the stairs like it’s prom?”

“Like it’s what?”

“Nevermind. I’m still surprised you’re actually goin’, you hate this rubbin’ elbows political bullshit.”

“I’ve turned down the invitation every year, I’m sure my appearance will be quite the shock to the other overlords… and I do so enjoy shocking people.”

Husker rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and I bet havin’ the kid on your arm ain’t tiltin’ the scale at all.”

“Well it certainly made the decision easier!” Alastor agreed with a laugh. “I’ve never been one for this sort of thing, you know. Dating was quite different at the turn of the century and I never quite took to it... but these last few weeks have been some of the most enjoyable in recent memory. I suppose I should thank you for your push.”

Grimacing awkwardly and flushing pink through his fur, Husker busied his paws shuffling bottles behind the bar. “Yeah, well… whatever. Hope you fuckers have a shit time.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed and his smile widened. “I suppose Husk-Joelle is out of the question should we have a girl, then?” he sighed theatrically, shaking his head, “And I so had my heart set on that name, ah well I suppose I can still allow you to be god father?”

Husker bristled, glowering as he opened his mouth to curse Alastor out, interrupted by the sound of the elevator doors opening again. Craning his neck down the hall, he jerked back in surprise, eyes widening and jaw dropping.

Confused, Alastor turned, head tilting at the sight.

Angel Dust was practically gliding as he crossed the floor, the velvet of his strapless evening gown plush and practically shimmering under the light as he tapped absently at his phone. The deep black of the garment only made his fur shine ever brighter and the pink of his markings pop as his leg slipped through the thigh high slit in the skirt with each step. His hair was curled back into an elegant French twist, his makeup surprisingly subtle and understated, and a long matching shawl draped over his lower arms, melting into the short train trailing behind him.

“Husky, you got the shit to make me a Southside?”

When he didn’t hear a response, Angel Dust glanced up, brow knitting at the pair staring at him.

“What?” He looked down at his dress and scowled, “Did you really think I was gonna show up to a black tie in gogo boots and fishnets? I can be classy!”

Alastor cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Of course, my dear, we were simply taken aback by your beauty.”

“Nice save,” Angel Dust rolled his eyes. “What about you, Husk?”

“You finally look like a hooker I can’t afford.”

That earned a laugh, Angel Dust shaking his head. “Just make me my drink, you ass.” He looked at Alastor, absently reaching up to straighten his bow tie for him. “Shit, maybe I shoulda' gone with the Jessica Rabbit look. Do you own anythin’ that _ain’t_ red, Smiles?”

“Hmm… no. Don’t think so.” He replied cheerily, resting a hand on the small of Angel Dust’s back as he accepted his drink. “You do look quite resplendent this evening.”

“Bitch, I know,” Angel Dust gave a cheeky wink before smiling softly. “And if you’re fishin’ you ain’t so bad yourself, always like a man in a tux.”

Alastor smiled, watching as Angel Dust took another sip of his drink and finding himself staring at the way his mouth formed over the rim of his glass. He remembered the somewhat sticky feeling of lip gloss on his cheek and, not for the first time, wondered if it would feel the same pressed to his mouth or if it would be somehow warmer.

He didn’t have an aversion to mint so perhaps…

His gaze jerked up at the sound of the elevator doors opening again, looking down the hallway to see Charlie and Vaggie making their way in their direction.

“Angel Dust, you look so pretty!” Charlie gushed, her hair pulled back into an aesthetically pleasing updo and her usual suit swapped out for a handsome black tuxedo, the jacket perfectly tailored with a splash of pink in a pair of patent pumps and her silk bow tie. “Doesn’t he, Vaggie?”

Vaggie was wearing a blush pink gown, the color and dainty off the shoulder sleeves surprisingly flattering on her, though they all noticed the slight bulge of a knife strapped to her leg under the swishing layers of tulle that made up her skirt. “Actually, yeah. Didn’t know your eyelids weren’t naturally pink.”

“Shit, wait 'til you learn about my tits, you’re gonna fuckin’ lose it,” Angel Dust replied, shimmying his shoulders back and forth to accentuate them, Vaggie rolling her eyes as he cackled. “So, Chacha, what’re you expectin’ us to do there? I know you an’ Al’ve been talkin’ shop but I figure neithera ya expect me to jus’ stand there and look pretty… even if I’m great that that.”

“My hope was to talk to people one on one and try and convince them this place is a worthwhile investment. Alastor’s financial assistance has been a huge help, but he can’t be expected to cover expenses for the whole thing, especially when we have more guests staying! Getting a few more investors will really help us and I’m hoping we might even convince a few people to even decide to give us a try for their own redemption, especially considering how far you’ve come.”

Angel Dust grimaced, “Yeah, I don’t think any of Vox’s buddies are into the whole redemption schtick… and they sure as shit don’t look at me for _that_ kind of inspiration, if you catch my drift.” Angel Dust made a jerking off motion with his hand much to Charlie and Vaggie’s obvious displeasure. “But I am pretty great at loosenin’ wallets so that’s definitely an angle we can work, 'specially after you get some champagne in me.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes while Charlie gave an uncomfortable laugh, looking to Alastor before awkwardly clearing her throat at the tightness of his smile. “Thank you again, Alastor, I really appreciate you deciding to come along, it's going to be a really big help.”

“Not at all, my dear, I’m sure it will be quite entertaining, if not just for the chance to intimidate and cast judgement on my fellow overlords.”

"Oh yeah, gonna read some bitches to filth tonight, it's gonna be great," Angel Dust's smile was almost feral at the thought. "Nothing like a bunch of rich fuckers makin' total asses of themselves tryin' to one up each other, am I right?"

"Fuck am I glad I ain't goin'," Husker rolled his eyes, accepting Angel Dust's glass as he finished. "Not enough booze in the world to deal with that bullshit."

Charlie smiled, "I appreciate you manning the desk while we're gone... you'll let me know if anyone shows up, right?"

Husker gave her a flat stare, slowly raising his eyebrow and Charlie cleared her throat, smile falling just slightly. Vaggie quickly took her arm, lacing their fingers together and giving the tom a sour look. "I'm sure he will," she said, tone terse. "Razzle and Dazzle are waiting for us outside, so we should get going."

Alastor tilted his head as Charlie looked at her gratefully, bumping her shoulder against Vaggie's and motioning them towards the door. Angel Dust was typing at his phone again, but moved when Alastor gave a small nudge with the hand still on his lower back, keeping pace as they exited the hotel and slid into the Magne limousine.

"Alright, bitches, game faces, we look too good not to post." Angel Dust raised his phone as he made sure to tilt his face for the perfect angle to catch all four of them in the frame. Charlie and Vaggie pressed together sweetly in the background and Alastor dutifully turned towards the camera, Angel Dust snapping several shots as the limo pulled onto the street before finally falling into the seat next to the overlord.

Angel Dust busied himself with his phone, interjecting comments and goading Vaggie as Alastor and Charlie discussed a few more particulars for the upcoming evening as they traveled through the city. Out of the corner of his eye, Alastor could see him taking a few more selfies as well as a few candid photos of the pair sitting across from them, fussing with filters and angles, his phone alight with notifications on photos he'd already posted to his social media accounts.

"-momentarily, I suppose it will be-" Alastor was cut off as Angel Dust pressed against him, holding his phone out with the camera up and ready.

"Smile, Smiles!"

Alastor eyed the small screen, eyebrow raised as Angel Dust adjusted himself to a more flattering angle, managing to press even closer. "No flower crown?"

"Oh honey," the spider beamed, his false lashes fluttering as he thumbed over the button, "a real queen doesn't need a crown."


	8. Chapter 8

Vox was a man of opulence and ostentation, which was not surprising when one considered the company he kept. His large television broadcasting building eclipsed Alastor’s Radio Tower in size and spectacle and was ever changing with newer aesthetics and newer architecture, as though challenging anyone to accuse of him being behind the times. He always had new cars, new clothes, and all the unnecessary frivolities one could have while throwing their wealth around flippantly – and was always the first to tell you about it.

Why was why, as they entered the expansive ballroom, Alastor tilted his head, resisting the urge to grimace as he took in the crowd and décor. The walls were lined with round tables and plush booths, a few guests sitting and chatting while many other stood in small clusters, champagne in hand, as tuxedoed imps wandered the floor with trays piled with hors d’oeuvres and full flutes. Crystal chandeliers ran the length of the ceiling, spotlights racing up the walls to create ambient lighting, and the tables were wrapped in simple silk tablecloths, tied neatly at the base for a streamlined look - though the shimmering of the crystal clasps was easy to spot even from a distance.

At any other time, he would approve of the surprisingly minimalist décor, unexpectedly elegant despite the obvious touches of wealth from their host, reminiscent of parties he’d attended in the twenties as an up and coming radio host.

But Alastor was a petty bitch and hated it on principle, especially having caught sight of Vox on the far side of the room surrounded by a group of sycophants.

He focused on the feeling of Angel Dust’s arms curled around his elbow, acquiring two flutes of champagne from a passing tray as they made their way to a vacant table.

“Vox always gets the good shit, I can always fuck with a Veuve.” Angel Dust sipped at his eagerly, already eyeing a few passing trays of hors d’eurves as Charlie acquired a few flutes for her and Vaggie.

“Rich asshole,” Vaggie sneered, but sipped at her champagne anyway, obviously displeased with how good it was.

“Rich asshole who likes to show off and I am down to take advantage of that,” Angel Dust replied with a shrug, “besides, ain’t Chacha from money? Bet you drink nicer shit at lunch with her folks.”

Vaggie grumbled something and Charlie laughed awkwardly, her body language relaxed amongst all the splendor while Vaggie’s was still guarded and obviously uncomfortable. “Dad does have a pretty extensive wine collection,” Charlie admitted, “but, I mean, it’s not like he breaks out the 1812 _Chateau D’YQUEM_ for any old time, that’s just for mom’s birthday… and anyways, I always liked the _Chateau Lafite_ vintages a lot more, better undertones and much more full bodied, y'know?”

Angel Dust snickered at the pained look Vaggie was giving her, “You sound bougie as fuck, y’know that?”

Charlie blushed, sipping at her champagne to disguise it while Vaggie rolled her eyes. “Says the guy in eight hundred dollar shoes. Shit, am I the only one here who was poor when I was alive?”

“Eh, the reason I like nice shit is _because_ I was poor,” Angel Dust replied, shrugging. “Pops mighta had money and nice shit around the house but that sure as fuck didn’t mean I did. And then I was on the streets just in time for the Depression to hit. Livin’ through that makes you real thankful for whatever you can get your hands on and a lot more eager to treat yourself, let me tell you.”

Vaggie looked surprised before turning her attention to Alastor. “What about you?”

“I come from quite humble beginnings, my dear, and made a name for myself through hard work and dedication both in life and death. I may be well off now, but just because one has the means to do something doesn’t necessarily mean you must, after all. I prefer utility in my expenditures and find value therein. There’s quite a different between treating oneself to, say, a fine bottle of whiskey or a pair of shoes that you actively enjoy and frittering your money away on expensive set pieces that serve no purpose.”

Angel Dust snorted, “Damn you’re gonna hate my sister, then. If you bitches think I’m bad when it comes to expensive shoes, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t worn a third of the pairs she’s bought. She’s got a closet that’s just for all her fancy handbags and nothin’ else.” He shook his head, “She’s my sister and I love her, but she don’t know shit about the value of money… but I’m real glad she didn’t have to learn like I did.”

Charlie cleared her throat, finger tips tapping at the stem of her glass, “On that note… we need to convince some of these people that our cause is worth funding to take the load off of Alastor,” the Radio Demon inclined his head, sipping his own champagne with half lidded eyes. “Plan of attack… find someone we know and start there.” Charlie said, scanning the room for a familiar face.

“Izzat Stolas?” Angel Dust asked, eyebrow raised at a booth a few tables down where the owl was entertaining a small smattering of demons, his eccentric suit bedazzled and sparkling under the lights and the lace of his cravat spilling out of the low cut of his jacket. “Oh shit, it is! Fuck, haven’t seen him in forever.”

Charlie looked impressed, “You know Stolas?”

“Sweetheart, I'm the most famous porn star in hell, you think I don’t know the horniest fuck down here? Shit, that guy’s a _freak_ ,” he laughed, giving a low whistle. “Feel bad for whoever he’s obsessin’ over this decade.”

Vaggie curled her lip in disgust but Charlie seemed intrigued, “Do you think he’d be interested in sponsoring us?”

“He’s interested in whatever gets his dick hard, you spin it the right way and I’m sure he’ll give us somethin’.”

Charlie winced, sighing. “Well. I guess we can start with him then. Alastor?” 

Eyeing the Goetial Demon, Alastor pointedly took a sip of his champagne. “I’ll stay behind and assess other possible ventures.”

Angel Dust snickered, patting his arm before disentangling himself. “That’s Al for ‘I ain’t getting near that horny fuck with a ten foot pole’. Probably a good idea, Stolas makes _me_ sound like a nun.”

Charlie nodded, draining the rest of her champagne and stepping away from the table. Vaggie followed suit, lacing her arm through Charlie’s as the trio made their way towards the booth. Alastor watched them go before returning his attention to the rest of the room, folding his free arm behind his back as he observed.

He recognized a few faces, members of elite society or high on the hierarchy, people Vox would be eager to impress or rub elbows with. Most of the guests gave him a rather wide berth, some looking at him curiously and others out of fear. He’d known the novelty of his appearance at another overlord’s social gathering would draw attention and he wouldn’t be surprised if a large number of photos had already been shared to the internet, especially seeing that Velvet was in attendance.

Angel Dust would most likely spend hours showing them to him over the next few days.

“Alastor, what an unexpected pleasure.”

“Vox.” Alastor replied, and while his tone and expression were congenial, the obvious dislike of the other overlord radiated off of him as an almost visible aura as he turned to face him. “I did send an RSVP. Thank you for the invitation.”

Vox’s own expression flickered on his screen, settling on a smile that didn’t reach the pixels of his eyes. “Thank _you_ for attending. I’ve been sending them more out of obligation in recent years, so imagine my surprise when I saw your name on the guest list. And with Angel Dust as your plus one. Part of your newest foray into charity work?”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed at the corners ever so slightly. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, don’t be so humble, you know everyone’s been talking about it. You, one of the longest lasting and most blood thirsty of all of us, dirtying your hands with the Princess’ silly little redemption hotel. I’d insinuate that with that one involved it’s not just your hands getting dirty, but I know you better than that.”

He gestured to Angel Dust who, along with Charlie and Vaggie, had captured Stolas’ attention, the owl having an arm around Charlie as he chatted animatedly. He couldn’t hear what the man was saying, but by how uncomfortable Charlie and Vaggie looked and how loud Angel Dust seemed to be laughing, he was sure it was unsuitable to be repeated.

“It was quite the stir to hear that Angel Dust had left the studio after so long, no secret that he was Valentino’s favorite and he’s taken quite the hit since his departure… but to find that not only is he still doing sex work, but that he simply wormed his way into another overlord’s good graces?” He huffed in mock surprise as his monitor flickered. “Well, you can imagine the scandal that’s been stirring in the circles.”

“You would subscribe to idle gossip, wouldn’t you?”

Vox smirked, “Well, it’s not so idle now what with you parading around with him on your arm. I’ve spent the last few days absolutely baffled at the idea of it, I mean we still haven’t gotten the viscera out of the carpet from the last time one of Valentino’s girls attempted to so much as touch your arm and here you are with the Pentagram’s bicycle.”

A flash of red and black crossed Alastor’s thoughts along with screaming and Valentino’s cackling laughter, but he kept his composure.

“At first I thought you were just trying to get close to old Lucifer through the girl, but to think it might be him that caught your eye? I’ll admit, I can’t figure out your angle.”

“No angle,” Alastor replied, watching as Angel Dust finally disentangled Charlie from Stolas’ hold, the two posing for a few selfies before Angel Dust began to speak with him in earnest, the owl surprisingly attentive. “Running a successful empire is so dreadfully dull, especially with no real competition. I felt the urge to branch out my interests, spice things up a bit.”

Vox’s screen fizzled for a moment at the insult, but his expression stayed in place. “Is that so.”

“The hotel has been quite the source of entertainment and we’ve only just started. We can of course count on your sponsorship? Though it’s quite unnecessary from my point of view to accept funds elsewhere as I am more than capable of financing the whole venture, I’m sure you could use the write off for charitable contributions.”

“I’ll be sure to send a check,” Vox simpered and Alastor smiled, sipping his champagne. “Though, as much as it pains me to admit, Angel Dust’s departure was also quite a hit to my own ventures as well…”

“Quite unfortunate. I’ll expect a smaller contribution, then.”

Resisting the urge to smirk at the flickering channels betraying Vox’s ruffled feathers, Alastor glanced over just in time for Stolas’ attention to be pulled away by a surprisingly tall imp, tossing a check in Charlie’s direction that must have had quite the sum on it based on her expression. As soon as the owl’s gloved hands began to wander on the obviously uncomfortable newcomer, Vaggie ushered the other two away.

“Cleans up nice for a whore,” Vox mused. “Never put too much thought into what he’d look like wearing clothes when Val let me at him.”

Vox was eyeing Angel Dust and while his expression was neutral, Alastor still found that he didn’t much care for it nor the not so subtle implication behind his words.

“Yes, I’m quite used to you not putting much thought into most things. Such as this heavy handed vintage instead of a lighter prosecco for your hors d’eourves…” Alastor tsked. “Shame, really, as I’m sure you paid quite a bit for such a fine vintage, only for it to pair so poorly.”

Attention turning to Alastor, Vox’s screen flickered for the briefest of moments, red suffusing the display but the details of the image too blurry to pick out. “Yes, well, it’s quite sweet but easily tamed by the right hand… though I’m more used to brute force with my more expensive pairings, you know.” He didn’t bother holding out his hand, simply inclining his head in an obvious mockery of Alastor’s own mannerism. “It’s good to see you, Alastor, enjoy the festivities.”

Watching the other overlord go, Alastor allowed his fist to unclench and his shoulders to relax ever so slightly. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Vaggie and Charlie speaking to someone he recognized as a member of elite society that they seemed familiar with, turning his head just in time for Angel Dust to appear at his side.

“Fuckin’ love stuffed mushrooms.” Angel Dust plucked a pair of plates from a passing tray, humming happily as he ate one. “Oooh, stuffed with _crab_. Al, try this,”

Alastor’s eyes almost crossed as he tried to focus on the mushroom poised between Angel Dust’s fingers a scant few inches from his face. Blinking for a moment, he opened his mouth, accepting the offering. “Acceptable. Needs more salt.”

Angel Dust snickered, grabbing a new flute of champagne from a passing imp and popping another mushroom into his mouth. “So what were you and old TV face talkin’ about that got you so riled?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Angel Dust hummed, sipping at his champagne and taking a glance around for another passing tray, zeroing in on what appeared to be a tray of bacon wrapped dates and silently willing the imp to veer in their direction. “Considerin’ the pissin’ match I could see you two havin’… He tell you about yankin’ my arms off or somethin’?”

The rush of static around Alastor was barely tempered and Angel Dust winced as red vigils hovered in the air, several lesser demons suddenly finding something they needed to be doing on the other side of the room. Watching as the imp darted away and into the crowd, the bacon wrapped dates along with him, Angel Dust sighed.

“Al, calm down, will ya? People are starin’. And not the good kinda starin’ I’m used to.”

After a few moments, Alastor blinked, the dials leaving his eyes and the static dimming to a buzz a few levels above its usual dull hum. “I believe you will need to explain.”

Angel Dust sighed again, rolling his eyes and taking another sip of champagne. “It’s no big deal, really. He and Val are close, y’know? Like besties or whatever’d you call ‘em… so Val’d give him freebies, bend the rules a bit... let him do shit normal clients weren't allowed to. Not like he did it often or anything, only a few times.”

“He _ripped off your arms_? More than _once?_ ”

“If I knew you were gonna be like this I wouldn’ta told ya,” Angel Dust huffed. “It’s no big deal, they grew back.” He waved an arm in emphasis. “Like… yeah, sure, it sucked and I hated it, but Val paid me for it and I don’t ever gotta do it again so… fuckin’ whatever. Fuck, you do worse shit in your shows, I’ve listened to ‘em.”

Alastor didn’t have much of an argument to that, “I at least give them the dignity of erasure afterwards, I don’t force them to grow their limbs back only to return and do it again! That’s…”

“Torture?” Angel Dust asked, eyebrow raised. “Al, just last week you cut some poor guy’s fingers off one by one to the tune of _Minnie the Moocher_ and fed ‘em to him before cuttin’ off his leg for you to eat later... and you described how you were gonna prepare it in like... ridiculously unnecessary detail. Then you skinned the rest of him while he was still alive. You torture people, too. It ain’t different just ‘cause it happened to me.”

“Of course it is,” Alastor replied, though he knew his tone was petulant. “I am nothing like Vox.”

“No, you’re not,” Angel Dust agreed. “I mean, sure, you’re both sadistic assholes, but the difference is you’ve got some integrity about it. People know you're batshit and you don't hide it, if someone asks a question you give it straight… but you bank on people not askin’ the right questions. You ain’t afraid to put your money where your mouth is, especially in your deals, and you post up when you need to. Vox hides behind six layers of bullshit and all his overlord buddies because he doesn’t have the balls when push comes to shove.”

Angel Dust paused.

“You also haven’t ripped my arms off yet, so I mean, plus one there.”

Alastor rolled his eyes, but the static around him had finally quieted and the party seemed to be returning to some semblance of normal, however they were still given quite a bit of space.

Angel Dust looked forlornly at the dates all the way on the other side of the room, sighing as he drained his champagne, finger tip tapping on the stem of his now empty glass. “So, I know you and the other overlords ain’t exactly sendin’ each other Christmas cards and your beef with Vox an’ them started _way_ before Chacha even thought of openin' the hotel, but just like I told her, I got a reputation that doesn’t jive with the whole redemption thing. Folks are already shittin’ on the idea and what it stands for and I’m easy ammo. Y’all can’t be gettin’ pissy when someone makes a shitty comment about me or you’ll have to fight the whole damn city.”

“Yes, well,” Alastor seemed to finally deflate, “you’re quite capable of that yourself, as we both know.”

“Damn fuckin’ right.” Angel Dust agreed, eyes lighting up as Charlie approached with a small plate of assorted hors d’oeurves and a fresh flute of champagne, offering both to the spider who accepted them gleefully. “Fuck yeah, they did the little shrimp cups again.” He popped the small cup of phyllo and seafood into his mouth, following it with a sip of champagne and a pleased hum. "Al, you want summa this?"

"I'll fetch my own at some point, you enjoy."

Angel Dust bit into a date, giving a happy noise. "Oohh, it's prosciutto 'steada bacon... shit that's good."

Charlie smiled indulgently as Angel Dust continued to work through the plate without pause. "Alastor, think you could come with me? Lord Everton seems actually interested in the hotel and wanted to speak with you about how your experience has been funding us so far.”

“Of course, my dear.” Alastor rested his hand on the small of Angel Dust’s back as the spider devoured another shrimp cup. “You’ll be fine, of course?”

Angel Dust held up the half finished plate, “I’ll be getting’ more of this shit, I’m hopin’ not to fit in my dress by the end of the night.”

Charlie giggled at that, Alastor shaking his head as he was led back to where Vaggie was speaking with Lord Everton, a portly man with the attributes of some sort of reptile if the scales and lidless eyes were any giveaway.

The man did seem actually quite interested in the prospect, mentioning several times how his wife had fallen to an extermination years ago and how she hadn’t been meant for hell. Charlie was wise enough not to offer redemption for him, but spoke openly about her hopes for the hotel and plans for aiding in redemption which seemed to sway him even further into their direction.

Alastor piped in when necessary, but his attention was drawn across the room where Angel Dust had camped out at a table, three of his hands laden with plates and the fourth with a fresh flute of champagne. He seemed quite pleased with his spoils, looking over the assortment as though planning a course of attack and Alastor felt his smile broaden at how surprisingly cute the image was. 

Neither noticed his former pimp strutting up from behind, a girl under each arm, and a positively vile smirk on his face until he spoke, and while Alastor was too far to hear, he knew exactly what the other man was saying.

“It’s been a while, Angel Cakes.”


	9. Chapter 9

Alastor could see the way Angel Dust tensed, his spine straightening and his breath catching as his pupils dilated. Just as quickly as the terror visibly came over him, it melted away, but Alastor could see an almost dull, vacant look pass over his eyes instead as a smile stretched his face.

The cockroach was wearing a black version of his usual fur lined coat and hat, his arms draped around a pair of women swathed in expensive jewelry, sparkling at their wrists and throats. They were pawing at Valentino wherever they could reach, the plunging necklines of their matching skin tight gowns putting their ample curves on display in such a way that made the obviously expensive dresses seem cheap. 

Valentino’s sharp tooth smile was sardonic as he visibly spoke down to his former charge, the light glinting off his heart shaped glasses disguising his eyes, but his body language gave the game away. He loomed, obviously threatening while his girls tittered and snickered at everything Angel Dust said, the conversation obviously trending more towards a confrontation with every barb.

It took a few moments for Alastor to politely excuse himself, Lord Everton already writing out a check as Charlie coaxed him into more stories about his late wife, the other man’s emotions obviously closely tied to his purse strings. Once freed, he fought the urge to barrel across the room and cause a scene, instead gently tapping his microphone stand and ever so slightly amplifying the conversation so he could listen in on his approach. His movements were casual and insignificant to anyone watching, but his gaze remained focused on the pair where, to Alastor’s ease, Angel Dust seemed to be holding his own against the roach, especially if the way Valentino’s body language began to trend towards irritated instead of imposing had anything to say about it.

“That how you talk to your daddy?”

“You ain’t my daddy anymore, Val.”

The louse sneered, “I’ll always be your daddy, that’s what you signed up for. I might be lettin’ you out on your own for a little bit, but you know your place as well as I do. You _owe_ me.”

“I don’t owe you shit.” Angel Dust’s tone was terse, but Alastor could see the slight waver in the confidence of his posture, his arms crossed in an attempt to hide his fidgeting hands though he held his head high. “I’ve paid back my contract three times over and the royalties on my flicks made you even more. You can’t charge me rent or give me a gift an’ turn around an’ bill me for it anymore, Val… and even if you did, I make my own money, I’ll pay any bullshit debt you come up with.”

“Make your own money?” Valentino’s expression darkened but the curve of his lips stayed in place and the girl’s under his arms giggled to themselves. The physical distance between the two made the conversation appear congenial to a casual observer but as Alastor grew closer he could sense the fury coming off the other overlord in waves. “You’re makin’ shit compared to what you were pullin’ with me.”

“Yeah, how would you know?”

Valentino smirked, “You think I haven’t been keepin’ an eye on you? I let you play around, get this rebellious phase out of your system… but we both know you’re gonna come crawling back soon enough. I know they can’t be treatin’ you right. Nobody treats you the way daddy does.”

“Yeah, thank fuck for that,” Angel Dust replied, visibly flinching back when Valentino raised a hand. The cockroach laughed at the reaction, petting down an errant part of his collar as if the movement hadn’t been completely calculated.

“So jumpy, Angie… afraid of something?”

“Valentino, it’s been so long. Were you planning on making a contribution to the hotel? I can’t imagine any other reason you’d have to speak with Angel Dust now that he is no longer in your employ.”

Alastor made a point to stand close to Angel Dust but keep his hands to himself especially after his conversation with Vox, a cool smile on his face that did not betray the desire he had to reach out and shred Valentino to pieces.

Valentino’s attention turned towards him, his smile becoming much more of a sneer. “Funny seein’ you here, _Al_ , didn’t think you’d ever deign to grace us with your presence.”

“Finally found a spare moment in my busy schedule.” Alastor replied, resisting the urge to snarl at the nickname. “I thought it was finally high time to show the rest of you how a real gentleman presents himself at an event such as this. You look well, isn’t it just _so you_ to wear something like that to a black tie?”

Alastor’s own smile sharpened at the slight twinge to Valentino’s jaw, the other man obviously clenching his teeth at the backhanded jibe.

“Just talkin’ shop. Seeing how my Angel Cakes is faring out in the wild world without my…” his tone took a slight edge and Alastor could see his gaze slip in Angel Dust’s direction, “protection.”

“Oh he’s doing simply marvelous,” Alastor shifted slightly in Angel Dust’s direction as well, making sure not to step in front of him but still discretely placing himself between the spider and his former pimp. “It’s amazing the progress one can make when given room to really grow, isn’t it? Why, you know what they say about roses and poor soil!” He gave Angel Dust a look, the other man appearing much more relaxed with Alastor there, smiling softly in response. “We’re quite impressed with the bounds he’s made and how successful he’s become – he’s even begun sponsoring the hotel!”

“…Has he now?”

“But of course! Quite the generous fellow and such a hard worker, I dare say the contributions he’s been making closely rival my own in scope. We’re all quite fond of him there, I can’t imagine what would happen should we lose him. Charlie would be simply distraught.” The rumble of static around Alastor crackled slightly with how gossamer thin the veil on the threat was, his expression darkening in delight as he noticed the girls in Valentino’s hold begin to shift and squirm as his claws dug into their arms.

“He has that effect on people. Quite the prize.”

“A real gift,” Alastor countered, inclining his head at Valentino’s sour look at the correction. “So we can count on your contribution, of course? It’s so wonderful to see you finally taking an interest in others, though I suppose it’s not your fault you were raised that way.”

Alastor’s eyes were half lidded and his smile deceptively charming as Valentino silently fumed. “I hadn’t really considered it.”

“Oh. I suppose if Vox was correct and you are unduly suffering in Angel Dust’s absence… well, it can’t be helped, not when I’m sure you need the money far more than we do.”

Valentino scowled, staring Alastor down for a long moment, the Radio Demon staring serenely back. Finally, the cockroach huffed, a free hand reaching into his coat and procuring a checkbook and a fancy pen. He quickly scribbled an amount and his signature, tearing it away and handing it over with a simpering smile. “For the _cause_.”

Alastor made a point of eyeing the amount before sliding into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, “Your contribution is appreciated, Valentino. You know what they say, it takes all types, big and… small.” 

“We should do this again sometimes, _Al…_ somewhere a bit more private. You know I always enjoy an opportunity to speak with you.”

“As do I, Valentino.” Alastor replied with a pleased hum, pointedly ignoring the nickname. “I always feel so much smarter after a conversation with you.”

With a final glower in Angel Dust’s direction, Valentino ushered his “dates” away, just shy of storming off with his tail between his legs.

“Are you gonna get in a pissing match with every overlord here?” Angel Dust whispered, the tension finally fully leaving him as Valentino disappeared into the crowd, the feather of his hat sticking over the top like a shark fin to signal his location.

“Hmmm… if Velvet decides to come up to me, I suppose I’ll have to go for the hat trick.” Alastor allowed another burst of canned laughter to play before sobering slightly. “Are you quite alright? I know you can handle yourself, but you seemed… affected.”

Angel Dust shrugged, looking away and feigning bravado. “You can take a whore outta the whore house…” he huffed. “Some things get hard wired. I don’t think he’ll actually start shit… ‘least not until Vox grows a pair to back him up… and we both know that ain’t happenin’ any time soon.”

Alastor’s gaze crossed the room to where Vox was entertaining a few select high rollers, one he recognized as a patron of Husk’s casino and another one he vaguely knew as owning several bars across the city. Deciding the threat level was fairly low, he turned his attention back to Angel Dust. “Well, that’s a bridge we will burn when it comes to it.” He offered his arm to Angel Dust, coaxing him in the direction of Charlie and Vaggie who were resting in a booth of their own, snagging a plate off a passing tray of shrimp cups as he did and handing it to the spider to replace the spoils left behind.

“Lord Everton sponsored us and even got some of his friends to!” Charlie gushed, face flushed from one too many glasses of champagne, Vaggie subtly trying to take the half empty flute in her hands away. “He said he wants to come visit in a few months when all the renovations are done!”

“Wonderful news, my dear, we’ll have to plan quite the event.” He reached into his jacket, pulling out Valentino’s check and handing it over. “We also managed to secure a contribution.”

Charlie’s eyes widened at the sheer amount of zeroes. “Oh, _wow_. I didn’t think he’d even consider… and so much! How’d you manage that?”

Angel Dust shrugged, “Al…astor insulted him into showin’ off.”

Alastor didn’t react outwardly to Angel Dust’s hesitation at his name, instead smiling wide and patting a hand over the ones Angel Dust had curled around the crook of his arm. “Angel Dust was invaluable in securing such a generous contribution, and you can be sure to see another from Vox soon enough.”

Charlie blinked rapidly, lips wobbling and Alastor could hear Angel Dust sighing something that sounded like “of course she cries when she’s drunk”, popping a shrimp cup into his mouth while Vaggie finally liberated the champagne glass and set it aside.

“I’m just so happy tonight went so well,” she swallowed, obviously trying to regain her composure. “We did _so_ well, Vaggie!”

Vaggie took Charlie’s hands, smiling indulgently but looking to the other two for help, before turning her attention to her girlfriend. “We did, babe. _So_ well. Do you think you might want to head home soon?”

Sniffling, Charlie nodded. “I’m tired.”

“I know. Me, too.” She moved to rise, catching Charlie when she stumbled slightly. Angel Dust went to help but Vaggie shook her head, gesturing towards the bathroom subtly as she held out a small ticket to Alastor.

Alastor caught on quickly. “We’ll go call the car around, perhaps a chance to freshen up before we depart wouldn’t be remiss?”

“Great idea, right Charlie?” Vaggie asked, nodding to Charlie until she nodded back and starting in the direction of the lady’s room.

Angel Dust finished the last of his shrimp cups, setting the plate down on the table and motioning for Alastor to lead the way. The crowd was thinner near the entrance of the building, and the valet attendant took a moment to react when Alastor held up the ticket, obviously not expecting to be needed so early in the evening.

Watching him disappear into the sea of limousines and luxury vehicles, Alastor turned his attention to Angel Dust who seemed surprisingly reserved.

“And how are you holding up, my dear? One too many?”

“Nah, you kiddin’?” Angel Dust shrugged, but the smile on his face was half hearted. “Barely buzzed. What about you A- …Smiles? Too much excitement for those old bones?”

Alastor tilted his head, “You know I don’t mind when _you_ call me that, right?”

Startling slightly, Angel Dust huffed. “I dunno what you mean, Smiles, it’s what I always call ya.”

“Valentino is a cad and a scoundrel and not one I would ever deign to permit the informality of a nickname. He uses it as the best insult he has because he knows nothing he says comes even close to irritating me, nor could it ever. His attempts, as with all things, are futile as I can see his intentions ten yards coming…” he paused, realizing he was beginning to rant, and cleared his throat. “But I _do_ allow _you_ that informality.”

They stood in silence for a long moment, Alastor watching him from the corner of his eyes as Angel Dust processed, a small smile finally curving the corners of his mouth as the limousine pulled up in front of them. “Yeah?”

Without looking, Alastor reached to open the door, holding it open for Angel Dust to enter.

“Yeah.”

\--

The ride back to the hotel was far more sedate, Charlie dozing against Vaggie’s shoulder while the other girl ran her hand up and down her arm, her free hand flicking through her phone.

Angel Dust played on his own phone for most of the ride and Alastor found himself resisting the urge to lean back into the plush seats and doze off himself, the heat of the night air and the quiet hum of the engine a soothing combination after such an eventful evening.

Razzle and Dazzle brought them to the front of the hotel and with gentle coaxing, Vaggie managed to maneuver Charlie out of her seat. Husk was absent from the bar as they walked through the lobby despite the early hour of the evening, but no one commented, moving to the elevator without a word. Petting the side of her girlfriend’s head as the elevator went up, Vaggie sighed in relief when it stopped on their floor.

“I’m going to get this one to bed.” Vaggie said, stepping off the elevator and helping a half awake and slightly stumbling Charlie navigate the hall. “Good night, everyone.”

“Later, toots,” Angel Dust called, the doors closing just as they turned the corner. Sighing, he looked up, watching the arrow slowly traverse the next few floors. When it finally stopped with a ding, the doors sliding open, he stepped off, pausing only slightly when Alastor followed. “Ain’t your room next floor up?”

“What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t see you to your door?” Alastor asked, gesturing for Angel Dust to lead the way. The spider snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Maybe we _shoulda_ gotten that prom photo at the bottom of the stairs.”

It was Alastor’s turn to look confused, but he fell into step regardless. Once they reached Angel Dust’s door, Alastor stepped back to allow him space to unlock it, though stayed well within the five foot rule boundary.

“Thanks for tonight, Al, with, y’know…” Angel Dust waved his hand vaguely, “everything, I guess?”

“Think nothing of it, my dear, I was happy to assist.”

Angel Dust sighed, the smile on his face small but soft and the slope of his shoulders weary. “You wanna help me track down Husk and hit the bar after I get changed? I could do with somethin’ other than champagne.”

“That sounds perfect, when should I expect you?”

“Gimme like half an hour, I just gotta get outta this dress, let my hair down, y’know?”

Alastor hummed his acknowledgement, “I’ll have a drink waiting for your arrival.”

Without a thought, he leaned up, pressing a kiss to Angel Dust’s mouth, surprised when the other man jerked back, hand raising to his lips and eyes wide.

“Al, what the _fuck_?”


	10. Chapter 10

“Al, what the _fuck_?”

Alastor blinked in surprise, head tilting at shell shocked look Angel Dust was giving him. “Was it too soon? I had thought we’d been going rather slow, all things considered, but I’ve been wanting to for most of the evening and now seemed as good a time as any…” he trailed off when Angel Dust made a confused groaning noise.

“Too _soon_? What d’ya mean, _too soon_?”

“It’s the natural progression, I thought. I’ve appreciated your patience for my sake, but it’s not as if it wasn’t going to come up eventually. Was now not a good time? I know you’re tired, but-”

“What are you even talking about?” Angel Dust shouted and Alastor felt his smile slip ever so slightly, his ears twitching back in surprise at the outburst. “Why’d you kiss me?!”

“I… wanted to? Was I not supposed to?”

Angel Dust’s hands had tangled into the sides of his hair, the style coming loose and a stray bobby pin falling to the floor, his expression was a mixture of panic and utter confusion, his breath coming in quick gasps. “You- why- Al, you don’t even… you said… I…” He made an almost pained noise, head throwing back for a moment before locking his gaze back on Alastor, eyes wild. “ _Why’d you kiss me_!?”

Alastor fought the urge to take a step back, brow knit as he tried to make sense of the other man’s reaction. “I’m not sure why you keep asking me that. Should I have asked first?”

“Why would you _ask_?!” Angel Dust’s voice seemed to be getting higher in pitch with each passing moment, his spare hands clenched in the fabric of his skirt while the others continued to pull at his hair. Alastor found himself equally flustered, but managed to maintain his composure somewhat, unsure how to respond. “You don’t even _like_ that stuff!”

“Well, I don’t mind kissing, it’s the rest that I tend to steer clear of, really. We’re dating so I just assumed-”

“What do you mean _datin’_. We ain’t datin’! When’d we start _datin’_?!”

Alastor jerked back as if he’d been struck, the dull hum of confusion that had overtaken him swiftly changing direction and embarrassment flooding him instead. He swallowed thickly, “I apologize, I believe I’ve made a grave error.”

Angel Dust shook his head, face buried in his hands, and Alastor decided it was time to take his leave and attempt to save some scrap of his dignity. He was surprised, however, when one of Angel Dust’s free hands reached out, grabbing his arm and halting his retreat.

“We ain’t… are we?”

Angel Dust finally peered up from his fingers, face visibly flushed, eyes shining with frustrated, confused tears, and just _looked_. Alastor, despite every instinct fighting with him to either flee or tear the other man to shreds for daring to make him feel his own feelings, stared right back.

The spider studied him, Alastor could see the way his gaze moved around his face, the gears obviously turning as he thought back to their previous interactions, a light of realization flooding them after what felt like an eternity but was surely less than a minute.

“We’re dating.”

Alastor resisted the urge to fidget but was unable to stop his hands from clenching into fists. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Suddenly Angel Dust laughed, a sharp noise that surprised both of them as he let his hands fall, though the one gripping Alastor’s arm remained in place. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at ya, I just… you’re _you_ and I’m _me_ and I just…” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I did not expect this.”

Contemplating that, Alastor pursed his lips. “Did you really not know?”

“It’s not like you asked me or nothin'!” Angel Dust argued. “I mean… sure, yeah, sometimes I thought you might be interested but then like, I came to my damn senses and didn’t wanna fuck anything up, y’know? It was hard enough to get you to be my friend, I wasn’t gonna torpedo that shit over you holdin’ the door open for me!”

“We’ve gone on several dates,” Alastor countered, his embarrassment colored with a tinge of annoyance at having to explain himself, but mostly he was just befuddled. “You’ve teased me about dates we’ve gone on. You’ve _been_ teasing me about my plan to make you dinner for weeks.”

Angel Dust stared, “Wait, you’re actually doing that?”

“ _Yes_.” Alastor replied emphatically, turning his gaze to where Angel Dust’s hand rested on his forearm. “I’m still deliberating on the sixth course, but I was hoping to have it ready in another week or so.”

“Stuck on the wine pairing?” Alastor gave him an unimpressed look, eyebrow raising pointedly, and Angel Dust laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry… just…” he huffed. “I’ve been trying so damn _hard_ not to read into everything and to not push but this whole time you actually _were_ flirtin’ back… fuck, how am I so _bad_ at this?” He groaned again, this time almost sadly. “I fucked up our first kiss even!”

Alastor flushed slightly. “It wasn’t technically the first one…”

“What d’ya mean?”

“You kissed me once before. When you went back to work.”

Angel Dust’s eyes narrowed as he thought back to that evening. “Wait, your cheek? I was _thankin’_ you, that wasn’t… I mean, yeah, a little, but… I tried to keep hands off ‘cause you ain’t interested in…” he sputtered a little, his hands waving uselessly. “That didn’t even count! You didn’t say nothin’ about it!”

“Because you seemed to think I suddenly despised you!”

“Well yeah, you were actin’… wait… were you avoidin’ me because I kissed you?”

Alastor didn’t reply, but he could feel his cheeks flushing.

“Did you have a _crush on me_?”

He scoffed. “We’re dating.”

Angel Dust shook his head, “Nope, no dodgin’. Is that why you were actin’ like I had the plague? ‘Cause you _liked_ me?”

“I was… coming to terms with my feelings regarding you and how they had shifted.” Alastor admitted, trying to force casualness into his voice and failing spectacularly. “I didn’t decide to act on them until later on after further deliberation.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Angel let his hand slip down Alastor’s arm, finally lacing their fingers together. “I had a huge crush on you, too.”

Alastor huffed, but squeezed the hand in his nonetheless. “I should hope so considering our current situation.” He shook his head with a sigh, “How did you not realize? I don’t believe I was being subtle about it. Just this evening, I let you feed me and barely took my hands off you the entire time, you didn’t find that odd at all?”

“You’re a touchy guy sometimes, I dunno!” Angel Dust replied, throwing his hand in exasperation, “Stop makin’ me feel like an idiot, this is your fault Mr. I’ll tell you if I hate you not if I actually like you!” He gave a small wailing groan, fingers lacing in his hair again, another bobby pin getting dislodged. “Fuck is that why Chacha’s been makin’ all those comments about us hangin’ out? An’ Husk? Did they know? Did everyone but me know?! Al, I’m a fuckin’ idiot!”

“You are not an idiot. I’m realizing I may have… missed a few pivotal steps in this arrangement. The fault is mine as much as yours.” Angel Dust let out another groaning noise, pouting, and Alastor felt himself smile at the familiar expression. “So… I suppose it’s high time I do this the right way. Angel Dust, would you do me the honor of joining me for a drink… with specifically romantic, non platonic intentions?”

Angel Dust snorted, but smiled beside himself. “That’s your idea of romantic?”

Alastor tilted his head, “I could get on one knee, but that feels a bit overboard.”

“Coulda just said ‘Angel, I think you’re super hot, go on a date with me’,” Angel Dust bobbed his head as he pitched his voice to imitate Alastor’s radio accent, earning a chuckle from the other man. 

“Hmm… no. My way was better, much more direct, which is apparently necessary when it comes to you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Angel Dust rolled his eyes at the snark, taking a step back into his room but keeping their fingers laced, his arm stretching out to maintain the contact. “Better be some top shelf shit waitin’ for me when I get down there.”

“Only the best.” Alastor lifted his hand, leaning forward far enough to press a kiss to the back of Angel Dust’s knuckles, pleased at the way the spider flushed, his fur fluffing out and expression turning bashful. “Half an hour?”

Unable to find his voice, Angel Dust nodded, finally disentangling their fingers and closing the door behind him. Alastor counted to three.

“Fuckin’ shit, my _hair!”_

Snickering to himself, Alastor made his way back to the elevator, humming to himself as the doors opened.

Woodford Reserve for such a special occasion, he decided as he stepped inside. One had to impress on a first date, after all.

\--

_Several months later_

Eyeing himself in the mirror, Angel Dust used the back of a finger to brush up his lashes, tilting his head to make sure his makeup was blended at every angle and his eyeliner was even, tapping at his lower lip with the pad of a finger before tracing it with his tongue. His highlight shimmered pleasantly as he nodded in approval, finally pushing back from his new vanity table just as a knock sounded at the door.

Angel Dust sauntered past Fat Nuggets dozing on a plush cushion, turning the knob to reveal Alastor, his red tuxedo jacket freshly pressed and his smile wide as he took in the deep burgundy color of Angel Dust’s gown, the silk satin fabric swirling around his feet as he cocked his hip. “You look ravishing as always, my dear!”

“You know you can just let yourself in, it’s why I gave you a key,” Angel Dust stepped back to let the overlord in pretending not to notice when he stopped by Fat Nuggets to slip him a piece of jerky. The pig stirred just enough to accept the treat, gnawing on it sleepily as he stretched his hind legs out behind him, melting further into the cushion.

“One musn’t interrupt a lady while she dresses, poor manners.” Alastor replied, watching as Angel Dust picked up his phone.

“Charlie still freaking out?”

“I believe Vaggie has managed to calm her, or at least direct her focus elsewhere long enough for the contractors to finish,” Alastor hummed. “I’d be insulted at her lack of faith in my abilities if I didn’t know better.”

Angel Dust shrugged, “It’s a big night for her, y’know? Gotta make sure shit goes smooth.”

“But of course,” Alastor agreed, “but I’ve wasted no expense for this evening in both money and personal favors, I’d hope my reputation would speak for itself.”

“Can’t take the crazy outta crazy, you know that.” Alastor watched as Angel Dust took a selfie, the filter he chose casting an aesthetically pleasing cascade of sparkles around him. He pointedly ignored when the device was turned in his direction, making no movement to change his expression or hide from the lens. “Think the caterers will let me get at shit before the party starts?”

“I don’t see why not, you had the largest hand in the menu selection.” Alastor glanced over just in time to see Angel Dust save a photo of him with a large digital crown of roses and butterflies, resisting the urge to roll his eyes when after a few more clicks of the screen he felt his own phone vibrate in his pocket. “Though if that’s what you want, we’ll need to head down soon. Guests will be arriving shortly and you know Charlie will want to have a gathering before the doors are opened.”

Snorting, Angel Dust rolled his eyes, “Yeah, to tell Crymini not to bite anybody and give Vaggie a chance to lock Baxter out of the basement so he actually talks to people...” he slipped his phone into a well hidden pocket in the folds of his skirt. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Reaching out to slide his hands around Alastor’s elbow, he was stopped when the overlord raised his own and snapped his fingers. “Before I forget.”

“Really, Al? Again?”

Shrugging, the overlord simply smiled. “You were quite specific with your requests, cher, can’t be making a poor showing this far in.”

Accepting the box of chocolate truffles and trying to suppress his giggles, Angel Dust shook his head fondly, setting it on his vanity table to enjoy later on.

“You are such a fuckin’ dork sometimes…” leaning down and pressing a kiss to Alastor’s cheek, he finally accepted Alastor’s arm, bumping him with his hip as they stepped into the hallway.

“You like it,” the Radio Demon accused, the flush of his face giving away how such a simple affectionate gesture still affected him as they walked towards the elevator.

“I like _you_ ,” Angel Dust countered, the doors opening and allowing them to step inside. As the doors began to shut, he felt Alastor tug on his arm, spinning him suddenly and leaning him back into a low dip.

“And I,” Alastor hummed, the low tone of his voice and close proximity warming Angel Dust’s cheeks, “like _you_.”

Without a thought, Angel Dust leaned up to meet him halfway and didn’t pull back until the doors opened again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to everyone who realized Alastor is a trash fire who never actually initiated a relationship - seeing some of you crack it early really made me laugh! I love writing these boys soft and besotted and I appreciate every single one of you who came along for this ride. Your comments and kudos brought a smile to my face every time and drove me to really put my heart into these morons figuring their shit out. 
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, thank all of you for your love and support. It truly means the world to me and I am so proud to be a part of the Radiodust fandom. Thank you so SO much. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I can only write one fic. I just write it seven different ways, it's fine, it's cool. Same tropes, different word document, livin' my best life.


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